Last Virgin In California. Maureen Child
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“From what?”
“From the usual.”
Just how many Marines had been “requested” to take charge of her over the years, anyway? Curious now, in spite of himself, he asked, “What exactly is the usual?”
She shot a quick glance at the empty doorway through which her father had disappeared, then looked back at him. “Oh, he’s been throwing you guys in my path ever since I hit puberty.”
“Us guys?”
“Marines,” she said, giving him a look that clearly said she didn’t think he’d been paying attention. “Dad’s been trying to marry me off to a Marine for—well, forever.”
“Marry?” Kevin repeated, then lowered his voice as he leaned over his now empty plate. “Who said anything about marriage?” He hadn’t signed up for that. He didn’t mind showing her around and in general looking out for her interests while she was in town. But as to marriage…well, he’d been there and done that. And no thank you very much. He’d pass.
“Geez, Sergeant,” Lilah said, her big eyes going even wider. “Relax, will you? Nobody’s sneaking you off to Vegas.”
“I didn’t—”
“Your virtue’s safe with me,” she assured him.
“I’m not worried about my ‘virtue.’”
“I just said you shouldn’t be.”
“I’m not—” He stopped, inhaled and blew out the air in a rush of frustration. “Are we arguing in circles?”
“Probably.”
“Then how about we call a truce?”
“It’s all right with me,” she said, jumping out of her chair to pace the room. Her bare feet made almost no sound at all on the polished wood floor, but her bracelet jingled enough to keep time as she stalked. “But you might as well realize now, that my father won’t quit trying. He’s obviously chosen you.”
“As what?” he asked, even though he had a terrible idea of just what she was about to say.
“As a son-in-law,” she said, making a sharp about-face to pace in the opposite direction.
“No way,” he said, standing up, not really sure whether to fight or run.
“Yes, way,” she said, shooting him a look over her shoulder. “And apparently, the fact that I have a fiancé hasn’t changed Daddy’s plans any.”
“You’re engaged?”
“Daddy doesn’t like him.”
“Does it matter?”
“It does to him,” she pointed out all too reasonably. “He likes you, though.” The blonde who would soon be starring in his nightmares gave him a brilliant smile. “And in the Colonel Forrest rules of the Universe, who he likes is all that matters.”
“Lucky me,” Kevin said and wondered if it was too late to volunteer for overseas duty.
Chapter Two
Lilah watched her father’s latest attempt at finding himself a suitable son-in-law and couldn’t help at least admiring her dad’s taste.
Kevin Rogan was tall, broad shouldered and his uniform fit him as if designed with him in mind specifically. He looked like a recruiting poster. Perfect. Too perfect, she thought, glancing from his dark brown hair to his strong, square jaw, lips that were now just a grim slash across his face and narrowed green eyes.
She had to give her father points. At least this one was way better looking than the last few he’d thrown her way. But, she reminded herself, handsome or not, he was still a Marine. And therefore out of the running, as far as she was concerned.
Of course, there was no one in the running, but that was a different story.
His hands fisted at his sides and she had the distinct feeling that what he wanted to do was bolt from the house and disappear into the fog—or maybe punch a wall. She couldn’t really blame him. After all, he was new to the Colonel’s husband hunt.
This was old hat for her.
“Really,” she said, shaking her head. “You ought to try to relax. All of that tension can’t be good for the spirit. Or the digestion.”
“Thanks,” he muttered, shoving both fists into his pockets, “but I like tension. Keeps me on my toes.”
Well then he should be happy to be around her. Because Lilah had the unenviable talent of making most everyone tense. It was her special gift.
Ever since she was a kid, she’d managed to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.
Still, no point in making him any more miserable than he already was. “Don’t take this so personal,” Lilah told him and was rewarded with a steely glare.
“I shouldn’t take it personal?” he asked, incredulous. “Your father, my C.O., sets me up and I shouldn’t take it personal?”
She waved her hand just to hear the sound of the silvery bells on her bracelet again. Very soothing. “It’s not like you’re the first,” she said. “Or the last for that matter. Daddy’s been lining men up in front of me since I was seventeen.” Just saying it made her want to cringe, but she curbed the impulse. “You’re just the latest.”
“Some consolation.”
“It should be,” she argued.
“And why’s that?”
“Well,” she pointed out, “it’s not as though he isn’t picky when he’s looking for a man for me. He only chooses from the best. I am his daughter, after all.” Not the son he’d always wanted. Just a daughter with a penchant for crystals and toe rings rather than rule books and sensible shoes.
“So I ought to be flattered?”
“Sort of.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m getting that.” She leaned in and studied his fierce expression. “You know, your mirth chakra probably needs work.”
“My what?”
“Never mind.”
“I don’t get you.”
“Join the club.”
“Are you always this strange?”
“That depends,” she said. “How strange am I being right now?”
“Oh, man.”
“Sorry about the interruption,”