Taming GI Jane (5 page)

Fire zipped straight from her lips to her breasts, making them tingle. Desire struck Jane hard, rendering her self-control totally inoperative. Her towel and shampoo fell unnoticed to the ground. Those perfect artist’s fingers traced her jaw, then slid lower to curl around her neck. His gaze holding hers captive, he pulled her closer, then leaned down to align his mouth with hers. Jane’s breath caught in expectation of his kiss. She prayed he wouldn’t be interrupted this time. His warm breath whispered across her lips.

“I’m going to kiss you,
Jane,” he murmured before allowing the first, gentle brush of his lips. He cupped her face with both hands, paused two beats to give her time to protest, then settled his mouth firmly over hers, making good on his warning.

Too many sens
ations to name bubbled up inside her.

She knew she should stop this. It wasn’t right. She knew better. But the feel of his lips against hers, his hands caressing her face so tenderly—she couldn’t bring anything that felt this wonderful to an end. She wanted more.

Hesitantly, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she allowed herself to respond. Her palms molded to his broad chest. The feel of heat and rock-hard muscle made her quiver. His now familiar male scent filled her lungs. Her fingers fisted in the soft cotton of his T-shirt, drawing him closer. She wanted to feel his body against hers, to saturate her senses with Tom Caldwell.

His tongue traced the seam on her lips and
Jane’s pulse raced. Tentatively, she opened for him. Tom filled her with his taste, hot and excited. A sound, her moan of approval, echoed between them. Her heart pounded with the dizzying emotions raging through her veins. Somehow his hands found their way to her hips. He lifted her against his full erection. She moaned again…felt her body moisten in anticipation.

Tom stilled.

His taunting mouth moved away from hers ever so slightly, but the feel of his uneven breath against her ultra-sensitive lips sent renewed desire rushing through her. She needed more. She wanted more. But he had stopped. She held on tightly and braced herself against the cry of protest that that swelled in her throat.

He pressed his forehead to hers and let go a mighty breath. “How am I supposed to just walk away after that?” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. Those magic fingers of his found their way back to
the pounding pulse point at the base of her throat.

Sh
e chewed her lower lip until it hurt, the pain jerking her back to reality. “We shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”

He tensed.
She felt the almost imperceptible change even before he straightened, moving slightly away from her.

“Look at me,
Jane,” he commanded, his voice still soft despite the tension now radiating from him.

Slowly,
she opened her eyes and looked up at him. His gaze was as uncertain as hers surely was.

“Now tell me it was a mistake.”

She ordered her fingers to relax their hold on his shirt and dropped her arms to her side. Reality hit her like a tidal wave. She flinched. “It was a mistake,” she forced herself to say, though her words lacked the conviction she knew she should feel. “In the Army we would call it—”

“I know what you would call it,” he said sharply.

Jane blinked at his curt reply. “I’m sorry,” she offered. She was a highly trained soldier. She had spent years training to react on instinct, not emotion. This shouldn’t have happened. It was her fault.

Tom plowed his fingers through his hair and released a shaky breath. He shook his head slowly from side to side. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I was out of line.” A half-hearted smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “It won’t happen again.”

He looked so sincere, yet so confused. She ached to put everything else aside and learn the pleasures of knowing this man fully. She produced a weak smile of her own, and pushed away the emotions she knew she should not feel. “We’re adults. We can handle the situation.”

He nodded his agreement. “Well, I’ll just say go
od night, then.” Tom backed up a step.

“Good night,”
Jane managed.

Both remembered the towel and shampoo on the ground at precisely the same instant and reached for them. Their fingers tangled on the terry cloth. They stood up simultaneously. Whether Tom was aware of it or not
, his blue eyes gave away all that was on his mind as he relinquished his hold on the towel. He wanted her, Jane realized, just as much as she wanted him.

He gave her another of those almost-smiles, turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Jane closed her eyes and released a long breath.
Okay,
she told herself,
get a grip.
She was on assignment here, not personal leave. She had orders—orders straight from the general himself. She could not fail under any circumstances. Nothing was going to get in her way.

Not even Tom.

Summoning her resolve, Jane grabbed her bottle of shampoo and strode purposefully into the shower facility. Tom was a nice guy and she liked him. But he couldn’t add another stripe to her sleeve. He couldn’t influence her future in the military. General Suddath could. No way could she risk screwing up on this assignment.

Slowing as her surroundings once more came to the forefront
of her awareness, Jane frowned. The facility had twelve shower stalls, six on each side. All but the one on the right at the far end were marked out of order. How could that be? They were all working last night. Then she remembered Tom saying something about the plumbing being on the fritz. Maybe the women’s showers were affected as well as the men’s.

Sh
e placed her towel on the wooden bench outside the stall. Humming to distract herself, she twisted both knobs on the faucet open all the way. Experience had taught her that it took some time to get the hot water going, if there was any left. While the spray blasted against the old, utilitarian tile, she toed off her running shoes, rolled off her socks and tucked them inside her shoes. The Camp Serenity T-shirt went next, then the sweatpants. Jane folded her clothes and stacked them in a neat pile on the bench. She removed her bra and panties next, adding them to the growing pile.

After adjusting the water to a bearable but still plenty-hot temperature,
she stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes for a long moment and allowed the heat and steam to relax her tense muscles. Her eyes still closed, with the hot spray aimed directly on her neck and shoulders, she took her time undoing her long braid. Despite her best efforts she found herself imagining how it would feel to burrow her fingers into Tom’s thick blond hair, and have him respond in kind. A smile slid across her lips as she considered how he had tasted. He had obviously drunk flavored coffee just before his little dip and had tasted pleasantly of French Vanilla. And he had tasted hot, very hot. She had felt his eagerness, his need.

Jane
threaded her fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp as she tilted her head back beneath the spray. Her breasts tingled when she recalled the memory of how his body had felt against hers. He had been hard for her. Jane’s nipples reacted. He hadn’t touched her breasts. How would it have felt, she wondered, to have his hand close firmly around her breast? To have his fingers roll and pinch her tightly budded nipple? To have his mouth close over that aching part of her and suck…hard.

Tension coiled inside
Jane as she conjured his naked image to mind. How would it feel to have that much powerful masculinity pressing down on her? To have him—all of him—inside her?

Jane
’s eyes popped open. She blinked, twice. She couldn’t think like that. She could not have an affair with Tom Caldwell. The kiss was a mistake. These fantasies were a mistake.

She had to stop thinking about him as anything other than her superior. This assignment would be over in a few weeks and she would be going back to the post. Tom would go back to the high school w
here he taught. They would likely never see each other again.

Jane
swallowed tightly. There was something about that last thought that left her aching. But it was the truth. She had always been honest with herself. She wasn’t about to change now. The feelings she and Tom were experiencing were nothing more than sexual chemistry. Lust. They had nothing in common, and certainly had no future together.

And since
Jane didn’t do casual affairs, there appeared to be no point in giving the idea any further consideration. It would be a waste of energy. She leaned out and grabbed her bottle of shampoo. She had to focus on anything that didn’t involve Tom Caldwell. Washing her hair would do the trick. Her thick locks had gotten so long that they were a bit of a chore to wash. Surely something as mundane as hair washing wouldn’t trip any memory triggers.

Jane
squirted a generous portion of shampoo onto her hair, then drew her lips down in a disgusted scowl. She had forgotten her body gel. Well, she could use the shampoo for soap, she decided. She squeezed a golden bead across her chest and down her abdomen before setting the bottle aside. She tunneled her fingers into her hair and worked the shampoo in. She halted abruptly. Something wasn’t right.

Jane
pulled her right hand from her hair and stared at the shampoo clinging to her fingers. She scissored her fingers opened and then closed. They stuck together as if her hand were covered in glue. She brought her hand to her nose and sniffed. This wasn’t her shampoo. Jane rubbed the thick goo between her fingers.

Realization dawned.

She picked up the shampoo bottle and inspected it more closely, cursing under her breath.

Honey.

Someone had poured out her shampoo and filled the bottle with honey. And now Jane had the stuff squirted in her hair. She glared down at her chest. Not to mention the sticky syrup, now mixed with hot water droplets, oozing down her midsection.

Well, she fumed, there wouldn’t be a damned thing sweet about her retaliation.

Maybe charming southern ladies got more flies with honey than they did with vinegar, but hard-ass drill sergeants got what they wanted by marching, crawling, or climbing until they found it.

Chapter Five

“Sandra Suddath is mine,”
Jane stated hotly. She shifted in front of Tom’s desk to face him more fully.

“Back off, sister,” Hattie hissed, “She’s mine.”

“You’re both wrong,” Reg snapped, hands on hips, shoulders thrown back for emphasis, “the woman is mine.”

“Now hold on just one minute here.” Tom looked from one indignant face to the other. This morning’s staff meeting had turned into a strategy session on vengeance. “I know Sandra has gotten to all three of you, but the woman belongs to the general, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Reg lifted one unrepentant eyebrow in response and Hattie merely glared at Tom, but Jane looked truly deflated.    

“You’re right,” she said reluctantly. “I would hate to get busted to private and shipped off to the end of nowhere just because I lost my cool with the post commander’s wife.” Anger flared in those expressive brown eyes. “But it took me almost an hour to wash the honey out of my hair.”

That statement resurrected in Tom’s mind the erotic fantasy he had struggled to forget all night long. Jane, naked in the shower. The hot spray of water slipping over her smooth skin. The feel of her satiny lips beneath his. The taste of her warm, inviting mouth. He forced his focus back on the disgruntled group before him.

“How would you like to be bound and gagged by the heifer?” Hattie growled unrepentantly. She squinted suspiciously at
Jane. “I don’t get mad, Sergeant Jane, I get even.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Reg added. He folded his arms over his chest as if the issue were settled. “I say we get even.”

“No one”—Tom leaned forward and braced his hands on his desk, shifting his firm gaze from one to the other—“is going to get even. Is that understood?”

Reg rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

Hattie snorted.

“Hattie,” Tom insisted.

“All right, all right,” she groused.

Jane
suddenly smiled. “There is
something
we can do,” she suggested mysteriously.

Hattie and Reg gazed at
Jane with renewed interest; Tom simply looked at her. The memory of last night’s kiss played through his head again. How could he want to make love so damned bad to a woman who spent the biggest part of her time calling cadence and earning marksmanship awards? But he did. Tom swallowed. He definitely did.

“When a new recruit gets out of line, we intensify his training.”
Jane nodded thoughtfully, the idea obviously gaining momentum in her pretty little head. “We cut rations and make them as uncomfortable as possible.”

Tom scratched his side as he considered
Jane’s theory. He’d swabbed the small spot with calamine lotion this morning after showering. Yesterday’s time out in the bushes had apparently given him an up close encounter with something he’d forgotten about. After all the years of training and working at this camp, he had to do something stupid like exposing himself to poison oak. Tom frowned when he realized just how much of a distraction Jane was to him.

“I like the cutting rations part,” Hattie enthused with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“We’re doing hair today,” Reg said thoughtfully. He cupped his chin in one hand and pursed his lips for a moment, then smiled. “I’m sure I can work a little lesson into my creations. It’s amazing what one can do with hairspray and styling gel.”

“I’ve got just the bottle of shampoo you can start with,”
Jane offered sweetly. She shook her head. “I’ll never dump anything onto my hair again without inspecting it first.”

Reg settled his hat into place. “Oh, I won’t be needing your shampoo, Sergeant
Jane.” He winked at her. “I have something much more inventive in mind.”

“Reg,” Tom said carefully. “Don’t do anything I’ll regret.”

Reg looked Tom up and down, then settled a doubtful gaze on him. “You’re such a goody-two-shoes. Bet you’ve never done anything you’ve regretted.” With that, Reg pivoted and marched out the door, leaving Tom to wonder what the hell he meant by that little remark.

“Well.” Hattie adjusted her apron, then patted her hairnet. “I imagine I should get breakfast started. Our ladies will be up and around soon.” She smiled sheepishly at
Jane. “Nothing like a good, hot bowl of plain, unsweetened oatmeal to start your day off right.”

Jane
returned her smile. “That’s the spirit.”

Tom waited
until Hattie ambled out the door before he turned back to Jane. “Listen,” he began, hoping he could do this without sounding as awkward as he felt at the moment. “I’m really sorry about last night. I was way out of line.”

“We were both out of line.” She fixed a hesitant gaze on his. “It won’t happen again, Tom. That’s the way it has to be.”

“You’re right,” he conceded, “it won’t happen again.” His gaze lingered on hers, foolishly searching for any sign of hope. “Unless you want it to,” he added before he could stop himself.

Those
brown eyes looked away for a second or two, and when her gaze connected with his once more all signs of uncertainty were gone. “I won’t,” she said firmly.

Disappointment washed over him
. “All right. I guess I misread your response.”

“I guess you did,” she retorted coolly. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I have a formation to get to.” She turned and headed for the door.

Tom blew out a disgusted breath and dropped into his chair. Why the hell had he done that? Last night had been a mistake. He knew it. She knew it. Why did he have to try and create an opportunity for another of those mind-blowing kisses?

Because he was an idiot. An idiot who had suddenly and unexpectedly discovered that, after all this time, he still had real needs. And wants.

But why did the woman he wanted have to be one he couldn’t have?

~*~

“Tell me one more time why we’re doing this, Sergeant Jane,” Crystal called out.

Jane
glanced over her shoulder but waited until Crystal had low-crawled between two bushes before she answered. “You’ve mastered most of the exercises designed for weight loss. I thought something new and more physically aggressive might speed up the process,” she lied. This was payback…pure and simple.

“Oh.” Crystal smiled, batting a hefty branch from her face. “I see.”

Jane chewed the inside of her cheek to prevent the grin that wanted out every time she looked at the weary group following her. She had gotten them through a pretty rough session that morning. They had done their calisthenics, marched, climbed several small hills, and now the grand finale—low-crawling. But it was Reg who should receive today’s gold star. He had given them all hairdos they wouldn’t soon forget. Crystal’s greatly resembled something Jane had seen on an early Madonna video. Sandra’s was a style straight off the Bride of Frankenstein. The rest ranged from frightful to punk rockish. Leaves, branches, and mud from last night’s rain stuck to all of them, including Jane.

Sandra and Beulah had spent the morning workout scratching like dogs with fleas, and
Jane now had a pretty good idea who had stolen Tom’s clothes. The thought that some other woman, even Sandra or Beulah, had seen Tom’s glorious body sent a jab of jealousy deep into her chest. She set her jaw and forced the reaction away. She wasn’t jealous of Tom.

He wasn’t hers.

She swallowed.

And he never would be.

A bloodcurdling scream shattered Jane’s worrisome thoughts. She shot to her feet and scanned the women scattered on the ground behind her. Another scream jerked Jane’s gaze to the right. Veronica, who had been bringing up the rear all afternoon, had decided to take what she obviously considered a shortcut to catch up. Jane sprinted toward her. They were supposed to follow Jane. That way she cleared the trail a bit for them.

“What’s the problem?” she demanded as she surveyed Veronica for any sign of injury.

Veronica hadn’t moved. Her eyes were wide with fright and glued to the ground next to her left hand. Jane saw it then. A snake, partially hidden by the decaying ground cover. She couldn’t readily identify it, but Jane knew from the shape of its head that it was poisonous. She swore silently.

“Don’t move, Veronica.
Don’t even breathe.”

Very slowly, very carefully,
Jane eased around to the other side of the snake. With Veronica so close, Jane’s only option was to distract the damned thing. She crouched down and rustled the bushes. The snake didn’t move. Jane moved closer. Her heart pounded in response to a surge of adrenaline. Snakes were not among her favorite creatures. She eased a tad closer. The snake still didn’t react. Jane frowned. The thing should have reacted to her proximity. She looked around for a handy stick but there was nothing. Finally, when she felt confident enough, Jane grabbed the snake and pitched it away from Veronica.

Fortunately, it was already dead.

“Oh, God, somebody call nine-one-one!” Mildred screamed.

Her heart in her throat,
Jane scrambled over to Veronica whom Mildred was now hovering above.

“Oh God, she’s had a heart attack!” Mildred ranted.

Jane pushed Mildred aside and then rolled Veronica over. Veronica’s eyes fluttered open and she groaned. Jane slumped with relief.

“Everything’s fine, Mildred
,” Jane assured her. “Veronica just fainted, that’s all.”

“Oh, Sergeant
Jane,” Veronica cried as she scrambled to a sitting position. “You saved my life.” She flung her beefy arms around Jane and hugged her to her bosom.

“It’s okay, Veronica.”
Jane eased out of the woman’s hold and drew in a relieved breath.

The women crowded around them. They fussed over Veronica as if she had barely escaped certain death.

“You’re a hero, Sergeant Jane,” Crystal announced. They all started to talk at once then, agreeing and then praising their savior.

“Don’t worry, ladies,”
Jane assured them when she could get a word in edgewise. “Veronica was never actually in any danger. The snake was dead.”

“But, Sergeant
Jane,” Veronica argued. “You didn’t know that until you grabbed that evil serpent by the throat and hurled him over your shoulder. I’ve never known anyone so brave.”

Before
Jane could argue, another scream cut through the air. “Help me!” Sandra Suddath squealed.

Jane
climbed from the throng of ladies and rushed to where Sandra was still sprawled on the ground between two bushes. “What’s wrong, Sandra?”

“It’s my hair,” she whined. “It’s caught in the bushes and I can’t get it loose.”

Jane surveyed the situation. The big funnel of blond hair atop Sandra’s head was tangled in the branches. Jane knelt beside her and reached into the mass of tangles. Her eyes widened in surprise when she touched Sandra’s hair. It was as stiff as a poker. What the hell had Reg used on the woman’s hair? Spray shellac? Liquid mortar?

“Oh, Sergeant
Jane, you’ve got to get me loose,” Sandra bawled as she scratched her back. “I’m itching and muddy and miserable. And I have to pee. Please, Jane, you’ve just got to get me out of this awful mess.”

Jane
grinned to herself. She wanted to announce,
now we’re even,
but instead, she simply said, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out if it’s the last thing I do.”

Thirty minutes later,
Jane had about decided that getting Sandra untangled would be the last thing she ever did. Jane’d had to break some of the smaller branches and leave the loose ends in Sandra’s hair. The poor woman looked as if she had wrestled with Mother Nature and lost. Leaves and mud were stuck to her sweatpants and shirt. Tiny branches and their attached leaves stuck out here and there from the cone of super-stiff hair. By the time they made it back to camp, it was chow time already.

Sandra had taken one look at the dinner tray Hattie passed to her and its fiber-rich but meager contents, and excused herself entirely. Veronica had done the same.
Jane couldn’t say that she blamed the women. They’d had a truly rotten day. Jane smiled. But it was difficult to work up any sympathy for the two.

“You don’t think you guys overdid it just a little today, do you?” Tom scanned the bedraggled group once more, then settled his gaze back on her.

“I’ll go a little easier on them tomorrow,” Jane relented. She tamped down the feeling that this would come back to haunt her in the form of a reprimand from the general himself. She sighed. This mission would not be a success if the ladies didn’t buckle down. One way or another, she had to make the point that discipline was the key to weight loss and good physical conditioning.

Jane
glanced down at her empty tray. Hattie’s chef salad had been sorely lacking in embellishments, but it was definitely healthy. Jane couldn’t recall ever having eaten that much roughage in one sitting before. She grinned again. If she didn’t work the weight off the ladies, Hattie would work it
out
of them.