He nodded her toward the door, wiping down everything she touched, until they were outside the door. He grabbed her hand and led her down the corridor and around the corner to room 1256, which he’d been given.
The door had barely closed before he told her to strip.
“What? No foreplay?” She quirked a coquettish eyebrow at him before kicking off one shoe and then the other.
“I just need to know that the archaeologist-spy isn’t hiding anything else from me.” He pulled out the desk chair and sat, unwilling to admit that he was tired. “Everything. Maybe you’re wearing a wire?”
She started to unbutton her blouse, unable to hide a grin. “I’ve given all that up. I’m never accepting a meeting from a government official ever again. It’s hazardous to my health.”
“Good. I’m happy to hear you’ve learned your lesson.
She dropped her blouse, revealing a lilac bra, the lace of which only barely covered her nipples, and her skirt, which she was already unzipping. His dick hardened at the sight of her, as it did annoyingly often. The skirt also fell to the floor.
She was wearing matching tiny, lilac lace shorts and hold-up stockings. Holding her arms up and slowly turning, she said, “See? No wires. Is there anything else you’d like to check me for?”
“Take the rest of it off.” He tried to keep his face stern, and it wasn’t too much of a challenge, because the box in his pocket was poking at his stitches. “Come on, quickly. I have something I want you to wear for me.”
“Oh, exciting,” she said, eyeing his suitcase. “What did you bring?”
He looked meaningfully at her and folded his arms across his chest.
She moved closer to him so that their knees touched. She unhooked her bra at the front, and let her lush breasts go free. She bent over slightly, and he couldn’t stop himself from stroking her soft skin. She let him touch her for a couple of seconds, and then shimmied away a few inches. She turned around, bending at the waist as she took her panties off. As she did, his eyes didn’t leave her lush ass. As she swept down her stockings, he could see all of her. He stroked her ass and felt her pussy. She shivered and moved back closer to him. This had gotten totally off topic, but he couldn’t resist her wetness and the whimper that came from her throat as he touched her clit.
His dick strained against his pants, and reminded him of his own mission. Pulling her onto his lap, he brought her head down so that he could kiss her.
“What did you bring for me to wear?” she asked, breathless.
He produced the box and flipped it open with one hand. Sadie had helped him choose the ring.
“What?” she said eyes wide and disbelieving.
“I know it’s sudden, and I won’t want us to rush into anything. But I want you in my life forever. And I don’t want you to ever think that I won’t come back for you. But if you wear this, it also means that you have to come back to me too. We’re both going to be traveling a lot with our jobs, and this is my promise to you that when you’re ready, we’ll put down roots somewhere and spend the rest of our lives together. Will you wear it?”
Tears spilled from her eyes. “Yes. Yes of course. And you better always come for me. And you better not leave me for a year.” She narrowed her watery eyes at him.
“No more than a week or so, ever again.” He slipped the ring on her finger and as it reached its resting place, he said, “maybe no more than a few days.” He stroked her thigh. “Maybe no more than a few hours.”
She leaned in. “That sounds about right.” Her lips touched his, and he lost himself in her once again.
Please turn the page for a look at the first book in Emmy Curtis’s sinfully sexy military romance Alpha Ops series, OVER THE LINE.
Chapter One
Khost Province, Afghanistan
Alone at last,” Walker whispered as he crouched next to Beth. Dust flew up as the crack of a bullet hitting the ground ricocheted around the valley. He flattened himself next to her.
“You are shit at taking orders,” she hissed back.
He ignored her as he tried to figure out where the shots were coming from. If he could just neutralize the immediate threat, he could patch her up and get her to safety. His blood had flashed ice-cold when she radioed that she’d been hit. And she’d still been laying down covering fire for the guys when he’d found her. If she was the first taste of females in combat, bring it on.
A pool of dark blood glistened in the hazy moonlight, expanding and trickling across the sand as he watched.
Crap.
Their simple mission of relieving another patrol group had gone to hell in a handbasket. Another shot echoed around them, and this time Walker was ready to identify the telltale muzzle flash. As soon as he saw it, he swung his gun and sent a shot downrange toward the insurgent.
Silence. He took that as a good sign.
“Okay, Sergeant. Turn over so I can look at that leg.”
Beth grunted but complied, biting back a moan as she did.
Walker’s heart dropped when he saw that her BDU pants were completely soaked with blood. A lot of it. Shit. Maybe the bullet had nicked an artery. He grabbed his knife and cut away the pant leg to expose the wound. It was about two inches below her panty line. And blood was still pumping out in rhythm with her heartbeat.
He undid her belt and pulled it off. No way was he going to let her die in this crappy valley, in the middle of Shithole City, Bumfuck. No fucking way.
As he slid the belt around the top of her thigh, trying not to touch anything that could get him court-martialed, one of the Strike Eagles he had called for screamed overhead. He threw himself over Beth, and waited for the bombs to drop.
They exploded with precision, of course. Walker had been the one to give them the coordinates. That was his job. The only air force guy on the team, he was the one who communicated with the aircraft patrolling the skies above the war zone. The only one who could give the bombers precise targets. The valley lit up with orange fire as they detonated. Rocks and scree sprinkled them, sounding like heavy rain, feeling like stones.
That should keep the Taliban out of his hair for a bit. He made to get up and realized how close to Beth’s face his was. He hesitated for a split second. A bad, bad second. He’d been deployed with her unit for a couple of months and had spent most of the time dreaming about her at night, and trying to ignore those dreams by day.
He swallowed, and went back to business. “I have to tourniquet your leg. It’s going to hurt like a fucker,” he said as he fastened the belt as high on her thigh as he could manage. “Just think, all this time I wanted to see your panties, and finally…”
Beth opened her mouth, probably to give him hell, and he used the distraction to pull the belt tight.
“You bastard,” she ground out between gritted teeth.
The wound stopped pumping blood and he silently thanked whoever was looking out for them upstairs. He grabbed the first-aid kit from his pack and took out gauze and dark green bandages. A shot sounded again, and sand flew up just inches away from his foot.
Shit.
Walker threw himself down again, this time lying between her legs, face about five inches from her wound. Which meant it was seven inches from her…
“Well, this is awkward,” he murmured. It worked, and in relief he heard her gasp a laugh.
“Next time… buy me dinner… first, all right?” she said between pants of Lamaze-type breathing.
He laughed quietly. “I’ve got to get you out of here first. Then I promise I will.” He loosened the tourniquet, and watched to see if the blood flow had stopped. It hadn’t, but it wasn’t pumping out as it had been before. He tightened it and vowed not to check again.
“Walker,” she ground out. “I have a letter. It’s in my pants pocket.” She groaned as if she was trying to get control over the pain. “Take it out before it gets soaked in blood. Make sure my sister gets it if I… don’t make it.”