Home for a Soldier by Tatiana March Read Free Book Online

mirror, his
body curved around hers.
    But instead, he told her to turn out
the light and clutched her to his chest as he settled down to continue his
interrupted sleep.
    Grace sighed. What was happening to
her? She was highly selective about sex and only willing to sleep with a man as
part of a committed relationship. So, why was she struggling to keep her panties
on in the presence of Rory Sullivan?
    * * * *
    Rory awoke with the instant awareness
a soldier develops after living in war zones. Something tugged at his wrist.
Remaining still, he maintained his even breathing and opened one eye a fraction.
Grace was kneeling on the mattress beside him, strands of hair hanging in her
eyes, her mouth puckered in concentration as she struggled to unlock the
handcuffs.
    Disappointment flared in his gut.
She’d sneak out on him. He had judged her arrow-straight, had assumed that if
she changed her mind about marrying him, she’d confront him with the news, but
it appeared that he’d been wrong. She intended to fade into the early morning
light without a word.
    His muscles tightened, ready to
pounce before she escaped, but regret held him back. He really had thought Grace
was something special. Innocent and awkward, yet full of spunk. He ached to make
her like him, seek his protection. Trust him. That was why he hadn’t touched her
during the night, despite the clear signals of her consent.
    He had decided to wait, until he knew
that she wanted him with her conscious mind as well as her aroused body. That
she wouldn’t wake up regretting what she had done.
    Needs battled inside Rory. Something
deep and basic wanted to reach out and grab Grace before she got away. Something
finer yearned to know that she had the opportunity to leave, but chose to stay.
Beyond all else, an instinct for self preservation told him that life would be
simpler if she left, even if it meant losing his apartment and the memories it
contained.
    It would be wiser not to go ahead
with the marriage.
    The cuff on Grace’s wrist sprung open
with a click. Her eyes flickered over him. Gingerly, stealthily, she crept back
on her hands and knees until she could slide down from the bed. She tiptoed to
the entrance, switched on the light that cast shadows into the room. Rory heard
a door creak open,then close with a thud.
    Despite his terse mood, he suppressed
a smile. Grace had no appreciation of the alert senses of a trained soldier if
she thought he could sleep through the noise that echoed around the room.
    She reappeared carrying her suitcase.
With a worried glance in his direction, she set the case down on the floor and
unzipped it. After a quick rummage inside, she shook out a pair of fawn cotton
pants and a pink and white striped jersey top. Her eyes flickered to him once
more, and she lifted out a pair of white panties and a padded bra.
    Rory held his breath. Holy shit. She was going to undress, right there, in his line of vision. His cock
stiffened. He knew he ought to stop her, but he couldn’t. The need to find out
if she would leave or stay required him to spy on her.
    Any excuse would do.
    He’d pay for his voyeurism with
physical agony, as his jeans would painfully restrain his growing erection but
he would have to remain still, feigning sleep.
    Grace stood up, crossed her arms in
front of her, and lifted the pajama top over her head. Her small breasts jutted
out firm and high, rosy tipped, the skin so pale that Rory knew it would be
possible to trace the blue veins beneath. His hands clenched into fists at the
thought of doing just that with his fingertips.
    In swift moves, Grace looped the bra
around her body. She fastened the hooks in front of her, spun the garment
around, and slipped the straps up her arms. With a jolt of surprise, Rory
realized that in the last ten years he’d never watched a woman dress, only
undress, losing interest as soon as his hunger was sated.
    Grace bent to push the pajama