White Dawn: A Military Romantic Suspense Novel (12 page)

How could she have been so damn stupid?
For a start, the kiss had meant nothing. It was simply a way for
Garrett to shield her very recognizable face. It had been a smart
move. The soldiers would instantly start thinking of sex and she
would be relegated to the minor label of ‘woman’ in their minds.
The sergeant had called her a whore, so the ploy had worked. None
of them had looked at her properly. None of them had identified
her.

If she was a professional soldier, if
she was doing her job properly, then the kiss should have meant
less than nothing to her, too.

But really, how could she have enjoyed a
kiss from Garrett of all people? He had a chip the size of Texas on
his shoulder, he was always angry and she couldn’t remember a
single moment when he had been nice to her, just to be nice. He was
an A grade asshole.

But his eyes say something
different.

The little voice popped up in the middle
of her deliberations, derailing her focus. Garrett’s eyes swam back
into her memory. Without the dark stubble, he looked almost…sexy.
But his eyes, without the distracting scrubbiness around them, were
more than that. She had found herself looking at his eyes time and
time again, drawn to them by the depth. There was emotion there,
hidden far out of reach. There was knowledge. Intelligence. Well,
she had always known he was smart. He was a fully qualified medical
doctor and on top of that, he seemed to have lived through a dozen
other lives. He just knew things. Odd things. Dangerous things.
When had he got so good with guns, just to start?

But she kept coming back to his eyes.
The way they had looked as he leaned over her in the café, just
before his mouth had touched hers.

Carmen shuddered on top of her sleeping
bag and it wasn’t distaste that caused the tremor. She realized
that she was wound up tight, her body throbbing with need.

“Damn,” she muttered. She rolled over on
to her other side and firmly told herself to go to sleep, or she
would feel like a slug in the morning.

But it was a long time before sleep
came, that first night. The night after that—last night—had been a
repeat performance. She had gone to her bag early because the
broken night had left her feeling just as slug-like as she had
warned herself she would be. Garrett had not appeared that day and
she was relieved. She didn’t want to have to look him in the eye
right now. She had a feeling he would read her thoughts far too
easily. He would read them and then deride her for them.

She had fallen asleep easily enough last
night, but had woken just past midnight, only to toss and turn on
her bag, wretched embarrassment flaring as she realized that she
wanted Garrett more than she had ever wanted any man. She couldn’t
understand why she was drawn to him, when he had the personality of
an automaton. Why couldn’t she feel this raging need for Angelo? He
was kind and honorable. He was a good Vistarian and she knew he
cared for her, even though he had said nothing.

But Angelo barely moved her pulse. Now
she was obsessing over a man who would laugh if he knew what she
was doing.

Sleep had been fractured last night.
Garrett’s eyes had followed her into her dreams. The dreams had
been shot with images that she barely remembered when she woke,
finally, to daylight, but they left her pulse uneven and her body
throbbing.

Carmen had hoped that tonight she would
sleep through. Sleep deprivation was a bad condition to have when
moving through Insurrecto territory. It impaired judgment.

But here it was, two in the morning and
she was wide awake and thinking about Garrett again.

She didn’t want him in a romantic way.
The idea of him professing love was laughable and who had time for
it right now, anyway? From what Nemesis had said, she got the
feeling that the Loyalists would make a big move any time now.
Their D Day was coming. Falling in love was something people
with spare time could afford to indulge in.

Besides, if she was going to fall in
love it wasn’t going to be with Garrett, god forbid! She wanted
him, yes—her body seemed to have a mind of its own in that regard.
She was burning with the need to have him. But it was purely
physical.

I bet he’s good in bed—all that drive
and passion
.

Carmen rolled over again and brushed a
small pebble out from under her bag, then hugged her arms around
her.
Sleep
, she commanded herself, trying to ignore the
flash image/sense of Garrett’s mouth on her throat, his hands on
her—

“Sleep,” she whispered and dredged up
the nursery rhyme that had finally broken her thoughts and let her
sleep in the small hours of the night, last night.

Mary had a little lamb, its fleece
was white as snow
.

Snow. She had only seen snow for the
first time in her life when she had gone to Harvard.

And everywhere that Mary went, the
lamb was sure to go
….

A hand on her shoulder woke her and
Carmen jerked in surprised. Instantly, she could feel the heavy
ache in her mind and limbs that said she hadn’t slept enough.
Remembering her training, she rolled onto her back to see who was
waking her, instead of speaking aloud.

It was Garrett. The late night made him
a shadow in the darkness, but there was no mistaking his
outline.

He reached under the net and picked up
her wrist, curling his hand around it, then pulled her toward him.
He lifted the net out of her way and she rolled onto her knees,
then onto her feet and ducked under the net. She found the flat
shoes she had worn to Valle Leñosa and pushed them on. She was
already wearing a tee shirt and her jeans. Lying on top of her bag
in her underwear would have sent entirely the wrong message to the
men who slept around her.

Angelo had been another shield against
possible overtures. While he was sharing her bag, no one else would
try to horn in. She had sent him away for the last three nights,
her lack of sleep killing any friendliness she felt toward him.

Garrett drew her up onto her feet, then
he threaded his way through the sleeping camp, moving silently and
bringing her with him.

What did he want? Was something
happening? Had the Loyalists in Acapulco sent them a message? The
radio sat on Garrett’s desk. He might have heard something that
wasn’t urgent enough to rouse the whole camp.

But he was leading her away from the
door into the monastery, out through the crumbling walls and around
the building. This was the same route she had taken a week ago when
she had gone looking for him.

Carmen held her tongue until they were
far enough away from the sleeping camp that her voice would not
stir them. “Where are we going?”

He kept on walking.

“Garrett?”

They had rounded the northwest corner
and now the last of the waning moon was shining on the white,
smooth walls of the monastery itself. Over to the left was the
out-building where Garrett had hidden and drunk himself into a
daze. But he was staying close to the wall of the main building,
where the path was smooth and flat.

“Tell me what’s happening,” Carmen
demanded. She tugged at the grip he had on her wrist.
“Garrett!”

He turned abruptly and pressed her up
against the wall, his body against hers. Carmen gasped and grew
still. Her heart, though, thudded frantically. This was too much
like her dreams.

The moon was behind him and all she
could see of Garrett’s face was the black pits where his eyes were
and the edge of his jaw, which was rough with stubble once
again.

His hand came up close to her face and
even in the moonlight she could see it was trembling. He brushed
her hair from her face, making her catch her breath. It was a
gentle movement.

Then he cupped her face. His hand was
warm. Almost hot. His thumb brushed her cheek and the touch sent
sparks flitting through her nerves. Carmen drew in a breath,
suddenly starved for air. The breath shuddered.

“Garrett…?” she whispered. She didn’t
want to hope…or guess…or anticipate.

“Don’t talk,” he murmured and kissed
her.

This kiss was so much better than the
first. This kiss was because he wanted to kiss her.

Garrett was kissing her
. It was
unreal.

Carmen moaned as his tongue slipped into
her mouth, stroking hers, playing with it. This was much better
than any dream or fantasy she had spun since Valle Leñosa. His lips
were soft, but the firmness was still there behind the softness.
His will, his body, the steel of his personality…she didn’t know
and didn’t care. She let him drive the kiss and let herself wallow
in the pleasure it generated.

When he let her mouth free and his lips
trailed down her throat, Carmen clutched uselessly at the wall
behind her, her body exploding with raw hunger. She moaned again, a
desperate sound. She had dreamed of this, but the reality was so
much better.

When he tugged at the hem of her tee
shirt, sliding it up, sudden understanding dawned in her. He wanted
her. Here and now. Her heart leapt.
Yes
, she sighed in her
mind.

She realized she was tugging at his
shirt, down low where it was tucked into his jeans, as Garrett
lifted her shirt up, exposing her breasts. He kissed them,
peppering each mound with butterfly strokes of his lips, then
curled his fingers over them.

Carmen cried out softly, as delight
slammed through her. She wanted…she wanted…all of it, she thought
dazedly. She couldn’t think beyond the fact that she could have
what she had lain awake for three nights yearning for.

She got his shirt open with difficulty.
Her fingers felt thick and awkward and anticipation was building,
stealing all her usual grace. The final button slid away from the
hole and she paused long enough to pull the shirt open. His chest
in the dark looked tanned, but that was all she could see. She
reached for his jeans. He wasn’t wearing a belt, either.

Garrett pressed his chest against hers,
trapping her hand in his jeans. His flesh was hot against hers and
Carmen gasped as her nipples scraped against him. He became still,
holding her against the wall.

Carmen couldn’t stop her hips from
thrusting out. Her clit was aching to be touched.

“Keep still,” he said.

“I can’t.” She looked up at him, “Kiss
me again.”

He obliged. His lips played with hers,
then he kissed her properly. Deeply. She sighed into his mouth.
Who’d have thought Garrett could kiss like that? It was
glorious.

He was pressing against the wall,
pushing himself away. Their bodies separated, but before she could
protest, he slid his thumbs deep into the sides of her jeans and
kept sliding them down in a powerful movement that moved her jeans
down her hips to puddle around her feet.

Like her tee shirt, she wore nothing
beneath the jeans and the cool night breeze bathed her heated
pussy.

“Step out of them,” Garrett said, his
hand on the zipper of his jeans.

She stepped out of the jeans and kicked
them to one side. She heard the metallic scratch of his zipper
being lowered.

His cock jutted from the open jeans,
dark in the moonlight. It was thick and when she curled her hand
around the shaft, it was hot. Throbbing. Garrett hissed at her
touch. “Be careful,” he warned. “I am at the end of my
tolerance.”

She looked up at him, startled, but
couldn’t see his expression in the moonlight.

Garrett bent and slid his hands behind
her thighs. “Put your back against the wall,” he told her and
lifted.

Carmen leaned back, so her upper body
was being supported by the wall and his hands slid up higher.

Carmen held her breath, waiting for the
feel of his cock sliding into her. She felt him nudge her opening,
then push inside like a battering ram, sliding home in one smooth
stroke. He held still again and Carmen let out a breathy whimper as
her pussy adjusted around his girth. Her clit pulsed heavily.

Garrett drew in a breath, like a man
might after a long cold drink had quenched his thirst. Then he
began to thrust in heavy, hard strokes, his breath deepening.

Carmen gripped his shoulder for balance,
her other hand splayed out against the wall and gave in to the
rising climax. It was building from deep in her belly, gathering
and growing. She let herself sink into the pleasure, enjoying
it.

Her climax caught at her chest, making
her breath hitch and hitch again. Then she came with load moan that
she desperately tried to suppress, but couldn’t. It emerged as a
strangled sound, as every muscle in her body clamped tight like a
fist.

Garrett groaned, his thrusts shortening.
Then with another choked groan, he came. She could feel the heat of
his cum inside her.

He rested his head against hers. Both of
them were breathing hard and it sounded very loud in the still of
the night.

Carmen swallowed. Her mouth was dry.
“Let me down,” she said quietly.

He lowered her to the ground and Carmen
bent over and picked up her jeans and thrust her legs into
them.

“Carmen,” Garrett said.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to explain.”
She yanked her top down and looked for the shoe she had
dropped.

Garrett closed his jeans. “
Now
you know what I’m going to say?”

“Of course. This was just sex, Garrett.
Don’t read anything in to it.” She smiled at him. He would be able
to see her face. “It was very good sex, but it was just sex.”

He pulled his shirt closed. “Then we’re
on the same page. Finally.”

Carmen slid her foot into her shoe and
straightened up. “I have sleep to catch up on,” she said flatly.
“Good night, Garrett.”

She didn’t wait to hear him say good
night back. She went back to her sleeping bag and climbed into it
cautiously, trying not to wake anyone around her. She didn’t want
to sleep on top of the bag. She was suddenly cold. So she snuggled
into it, curled up on her side and her arms around herself.