Marching Orders. Delores Fossen

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Marching Orders - Delores Fossen Mills & Boon Intrigue

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it did.

      Anna caught on to the front of his uniform and pulled him down with her. The logical part of his brain yelled that this would be hellish torture, but the rest of him didn’t seem to care. While still holding on to his weapon, he buried his other hand in her hair and took her mouth as if it were his for the taking.

      Rafe kissed her chin. Her neck. And the tender flesh that he found in the vee opening of her shirt. Anna arched against him, whispering his name.

      When her leg brushed against the front of his pants, she stiffened slightly, obviously noticing that he was a dozen steps past basic foreplay. She didn’t pull away, though. Not that he gave her much of a chance. Rafe knew this couldn’t go where his body wanted it to go, but he wasn’t ready to stop just yet.

      While he kept up the assault on her neck, he opened the buttons on her shirt. One at a time. Slowly. As he bared her skin, he dropped kisses along the way until he reached her bra. It wasn’t much of a barrier, a little swatch of pale-colored lace. He eased it down and took a moment to admire the view.

      Thankfully, there was just enough light that he could see her. She was beautiful. And he didn’t mean just her breasts and her body. Rafe stared down at her face and wondered what the hell he’d ever done to deserve her.

      He lowered his head and brushed his tongue against one of her tightened nipples. She clamped on to her bottom lip, but not before she moaned with pleasure. He hadn’t especially needed that kind of encouragement, but it sped up his plans a little. He drew her nipple into his mouth.

      Anna’s grip tightened around him. She arched her back and forced him closer. Rafe feasted. First one breast and then the other.

      She stirred restlessly. Seeking. She pressed her lower body to his and had him seeing double when she moved against him in the most intimate kind of way that a woman could move against a man.

      “I’ve been in this building for what seemed like an eternity,” she whispered. “Thinking about you. About us. About how fragile life is. I want to be with you, Rafe, and I don’t want to wait any longer.”

      He watched the words shape her lips. He’d already geared himself up to resist the need raging in his body. That’s what he’d done for the past four and a half months since Anna had told him that she was a virgin and wouldn’t give herself to a man she didn’t love.

      But those words changed everything.

      He was about to remind her that it was the adrenaline talking, but Anna stopped him. She pressed her fingers to his mouth. “I love you, Rafe, and I don’t want you to say anything. I just want you to do something about it.”

      His heart slammed against his chest. He had two simultaneous thoughts. Thank goodness and oh, hell.

      Her timing couldn’t have been worse. Ditto for the location. In fact, everything about the moment was wrong, wrong, wrong except for one major thing: somehow or another, it was right.

      Totally, completely right.

      Rafe let that sink in for a couple of moments. It sank in and went straight to his heart.

      Maybe Anna didn’t want the words now, but he sure as heck would say them to her later. Words to let her know that he didn’t want to be just her first, or even her last, but her only lover.

      He reached out, pulled her to him and took everything she offered.

      Chapter One

      San Antonio, Two Months Later

      The moment Rafe slid his arm around her waist, Anna felt the jolt. Definitely not passion. Something else. Something she’d felt stirring just beneath the surface since his return three days earlier.

      “No turning back now, darling,” Rafe drawled, his voice low and intimate. The corner of his mouth hitched, causing a dimple to flash. “We’ve officially been joined at the hip.”

      “Yes,” Anna managed to say.

      She swallowed hard.

      Rafe gently cupped her chin and leaned closer for the kiss that would seal the vows they had just taken. His hand trembled a little, and he closed the already narrow distance between them.

      Their bodies came together. His crisp uniform whispered over the delicate layers of her silk-and-lace gown. Beneath her own trembling hand, Anna felt the strip of cool medals on his jacket and heard them jangle softly. All things considered, it was as perfect as it could be.

      Except for that jolt.

      Rafe kept the kiss brief, not much more than a touch. Breath met breath. His was warm and mint-scented. It mingled with the sweet fragrance of the pale peach roses in her bouquet.

      “Don’t worry,” he murmured. The trace of Texas in his voice danced right off his words. “We’ll make up for lost time. Promise.”

      It was the right thing to say. Ditto for the grin that curved his beautifully shaped mouth. But neither of those things made the jolt go away.

      What in the name of heaven was wrong with her? She had it all. A mouth-watering husband that she loved. A life she wanted. This was her own personal version of a fairy tale come true. There was no reason for jolts or doubts.

      None.

      So, why didn’t that make her feel better?

      The chaplain placed a hand on each of their shoulders and turned them toward the guests. “I’d like to present Captain and Mrs. Rafael McQuade.”

      Applause rippled through the handful of people. Close friends and Rafe’s co-workers, including his commanding officer, Colonel Ethan Shaw. The wedding had been so hastily thrown together that there hadn’t been time to invite anyone from out of town. As unsteady as she felt, maybe that was a good thing.

      When Rafe stepped away to speak to the guests, Anna saw her best friend, Janine, make a beeline right for her. Janine didn’t waste any time. She draped an arm around Anna’s shoulders and pulled her aside. “Okay, is this the part where you tell me what the heck’s going on with you?”

      Anna didn’t stand a chance of denying that jolt. Not with Janine. So, she went for what would hopefully be a believable slant on the truth. “I guess my nerves are still a little raw. I just keep thinking that those rebels could have killed Rafe.”

      “Uh-huh.” Janine gave her a flat look. “That sounds, uh, good, and it might even fool a few people. Not me, of course. Because you see, I’m not buying this I’m-worried-about-Rafe stuff. I was with you during those two months he was held captive in South America. I’ve seen the look you get when you’re worried about him, and this isn’t it, Anna.”

      Maybe not. But this wasn’t the place to try to discuss something that might simply be a figment of her overactive imagination.

      “Everything will be fine,” Anna quickly assured her. With any luck, that was true. “By the way, thanks again for helping put this wedding together. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

      Another flat look. “Does that mean if I keep asking what’s wrong, you’ll continue to make small talk?”

      Anna

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