Читать книгу Last Virgin In California - Maureen Child - Страница 9

“You cold?” he asked.

Lilah nearly jumped, startled at the sound of his voice. For the last hour, they’d been walking aimlessly around the base and he’d hardly said more than a word or two. And she was pretty sure that if he’d been able to get by with a grunt, that’s what he would have done.

“No,” she answered a moment later, “I’m fine. You?”

He looked at her like she was crazy.

“Sorry,” she said, lifting both hands, palms out. “I forgot, Marines don’t get cold.”

His lips quirked, but otherwise, there was no shift of expression. It was like taking a walk with a mobile statue. Any sympathy she might have been feeling for him last night dissolved in the bubbling stew of frustration simmering inside her. Not being one to suffer silently, Lilah, as usual, let it erupt. “What’s the deal here, Gunny?”

“What?” he gave her another look, then absently took her elbow and steered her around a parked car.

Lilah ignored the flash of warmth that the slightest touch from him ignited inside her. On top of everything else, she didn’t need the distraction of fluttering hormones. Plus, at twenty-six, she was a little too old to be developing crushes that were destined to go nowhere.

Besides. They’d had a deal, hadn’t they?

“Excuse me,” Lilah said, flipping her windblown hair back out of her eyes, “but aren’t you the guy who just last night offered me a bargain?”

“Here I stand.”

“Uh-huh.” Did he ever, she thought, with a purely feminine glance of admiration. Well over six-feet tall, he looked like a khaki brick wall. With gorgeous green eyes. And that had absolutely nothing to do with anything, she told herself firmly. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “So, what happened to the part about how we’re going to get along and get through the month without making each other miserable?”

One dark eyebrow lifted into an arch.

Impressive.

“You’re miserable?”

“Gee, no,” Lilah told him, sarcasm dripping from every word. “So far, this is better than Disneyland.”

He stopped walking, heaved a dramatic sigh and turned to face her. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem, Gunny, is that I might as well be by myself, here.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” she snapped, “you could actually speak occasionally. Or were you ordered to keep quiet?”

A cold blast of air swept past them, ruffling the hem of her skirt, lifting her hair into a tangled mess and sending goose bumps racing up and down her arms. And it was still warmer than the chill she saw in his eyes.

But in a moment or two, that coolness was gone, replaced with a frustration she understood all too well. Heck, she’d been seeing it most of her life. She never had fit in and once again, that was being pointed out to her.

He shook his head, lifted his gaze to a spot inches above her head and stared out into the distance. From overhead, came the distinctive roar of a jet taking off and the sun slipped behind a bank of clouds.

“No,” he said, lowering his gaze briefly to hers. “I wasn’t ordered to keep quiet. It’s just—”

“I know. You don’t want to be a tour guide.”

“Not particularly,” he admitted, and looked directly at her.

“Well,” she said, “that’s honest, anyway.”

“It’s not your fault,” he muttered, “but this whole thing really goes against the grain.”

“Tell me about it,” Lilah said, shoving her hair back out of her face. “You think I enjoy being handed off from one Marine to another? I’m like a human hot potato!”

“So why do you put up with it?”

“Have you ever tried to say no to my father?”

“Can’t say that I have,” he said.

“I don’t recommend it.” Not that her father ever lost his temper or anything. But he just sort of steamrolled over a person’s objections. Especially, she told herself with just a touch of shame, when you didn’t speak up and be honest. Heck, she’d called Kevin Rogan a coward for not telling the truth. Yet she hadn’t either, when given a perfect opportunity. She pushed that thought aside for the moment. “Don’t get me wrong,” she added, “Dad’s terrific. He’s just…how do I say this?”

“A Marine?” he inquired wryly.

“Exactly,” she said.

Kevin stared at her. That smile of hers should be classified as a weapon. Top grade. It had the wattage of a nuclear bomb and probably had the same results on most men. Able to leave them flat and whimpering.

He, however, was a different story. Oh, he wasn’t blind. And since he was most definitely male, he could appreciate her package. Just like he’d appreciate a beautiful piece of art. That didn’t mean he wanted to take her home and hang her on his walls.

And he’d been down this route before, he reminded himself. He’d taken one look at a woman and seen everything he’d wanted to see and nothing he didn’t. He wouldn’t be making the same mistake again.

“I don’t really need a tour of the base anyway, you know,” she was saying and he told himself to pay attention. He had a feeling that not paying attention around Lilah Forrest could be a dangerous thing.

“Why’s that?” he asked. Not that he minded cutting the tour short.

“Because,” she said, shrugging, “all bases are pretty much the same.” Turning in a tight circle, she lifted one hand and pointed as she counted off, “Headquarters, Billeting, Provost Marshall, beyond that, the PX, Post Office, Commissary. And,” she said, turning back to him with another one of those smiles, “let’s not forget the theater, rec center and oh, yeah. There’re the clubs, enlisted, officers and Staff NCOs, and last but not least, the all important Recruit Receiving.”

When she was finished, she looked up at him and gave him another one of those smiles. “Same church, different pew.”

She was right, of course. Hell, she’d been raised on bases around the world. She probably knew her way around as well as he did. Which led him back to the one question that was flashing on and off in his brain like a broken neon light. Before he could stop himself, he asked, “So what are we doing here?”

“You’ve got me.”

A simple phrase. So why did it snake along his spine like a red-hot thread? Because having her implied all sorts of things that his body clearly approved of wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, though, there would be no having of any kind. Not only was she the Colonel’s daughter and Kevin’s responsibility for the next few weeks…but she wasn’t the one-night-stand kind of woman and he wasn’t the happily-ever-after kind of man.

So that left them square in the middle of “no touch” land.

Then she touched him. A simple touch, she leaned into him and laid one hand on his upper arm. Heat skittered through him, but he drew on every ounce of his formidable will and told himself to ignore it. It wasn’t getting any easier, though.

“It’s weird,” Lilah muttered more to herself than to her strong, silent type companion.

“What is?” he asked, but she had the feeling he didn’t really care.

“Being back on a base.”

“How long’s it been?”

Not long enough, she thought. But all she said was, “A year or so.”

“Why’s that?”

She slanted a look up—way up—at him. “Do you always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

Lilah sighed. “In short, three-to-four-word sentences. I mean you don’t say much and when you do, it’s almost over before you start.”

“You talk enough for both of us.”

She did tend to babble when she was nervous, she admitted silently. Which brought up the question of just why she was nervous. It wasn’t being on base. Or being around her father. Those things she was used to dealing with. She just plastered on a smile and went out of her way to point out her unsuitability herself to avoid having others do it for her.

An old trick, Lilah had been using it for years. Rather than wait for someone else to make fun of her, she poked fun at herself. Then everyone was laughing with her. Not at her.

So, if she wasn’t nervous about where she was…she must be nervous about who she was with.

Uh-oh.

“Hmm. Talk too much. Where have I heard that before?”

“From everyone you’ve ever met?” he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting.

“Wow.” Lilah stared up at him. It was truly amazing what that smile did to his face. No wonder he didn’t do it often. The bodies of women would be littering the parade deck. But she didn’t have to let him know that. “A smile. This is a real moment. Too bad I don’t have my journal with me, I could make a note of it.”

“Funny.”

“Thanks.” She laid one hand on his forearm and felt that jolt of heat again. Okay, she hadn’t counted on that. Instantly, she let her hand drop again and took a step back, just for good measure. Couldn’t hurt to keep a little distance between herself and the surprising Gunnery Sergeant.

“Well,” he asked, “if you don’t want the tour, what would you like to see?”

Before she could answer, someone shouted, “Gunny! Hey, Gunny!”

Kevin turned around and Lilah looked past him at the man hurrying up to them. Judging by his Smokey the Bear hat, he too was a Drill Instructor. He came to a stop in front of Kevin and spared her a quick glance.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, “but I need to borrow the Gunny for a minute.”

“Sure,” she said.

Kevin frowned slightly. “Staff Sergeant Michaels, this is Lilah Forrest.”

The Marine’s gaze widened in surprise. “As in Colonel Forrest?”

Lilah nearly sighed. Happened every time she met one of her father’s troops. They looked at her, imagined him, and just couldn’t seem to put the two of them in the same family. But she’d long ago quit trying to be what everyone else expected her to be, so she just smiled at him. “He’s my father, yes.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said. His gaze swept over her and as he took note of the crystal around her neck and the silver chain around her waist and her boots, she could almost hear him feeling sorry for her father. A moment later though, he was all business, and turning his gaze on Kevin.

“I need your help tonight.”

“I’m off for the next couple of weeks,” Kevin told him and Lilah noticed for the first time how rough and gravelly his voice sounded. Must be from all the shouting the D.I.’s did at the recruits. But whatever the reason, it scraped along the back of her neck and felt like sandpaper rubbing against her skin.

“I know that,” Sergeant Michaels said. “But Porter’s wife is in the hospital. Their first one’s about to be born and I’ve got a busload coming in tonight.”

“A busload?” Lilah asked.

“Recruits,” Kevin told her with a glance over his shoulder.

“Ah…” Of course. She’d been around the Marine Corps long enough to know that when new recruits arrived at the depot, they arrived in the middle of the night. Bringing them in on a bus in the dark was sort of a psychological thing, she supposed. Kept them from knowing exactly where they were. Enforced the feeling that they were all in this together. Made them start looking to each other for comfort, for strength.

Because that was the whole point of boot camp. To take individual kids and build them into team player Marines. The military wasn’t exactly big on individualism. Which is exactly why she’d always had such a hard time fitting in.

Free spirits in the Marine Corps? She didn’t think so.

“You won’t have to do anything,” Michaels said, talking faster now, “just be there as backup.”

She’d never seen the recruits arriving and as long as she was here, it seemed like a good idea. “Can I come, too?” she asked.

Both men turned and glared at her.

“No.”

She pulled her head back and stared at them. “Why not?”

“You said you didn’t want a tour,” Kevin reminded her.

“That’s not a tour. That’s just observing.”

“No observers allowed,” he said.

“Staff Sergeant Michaels just asked you to be an observer.”

“He asked me to be backup.”

From the corner of her eye, she noted that Sergeant Michaels was watching the two of them with fascination. But she paid no attention to him. Instead, she concentrated on the huge man glowering at her.

“And if you’re not doing anything but being backup,” she pointed out, “what exactly will you be doing?”

“Watching.”

“Ah-hah.” She folded her arms across her chest, leaned back and gave him a victorious smile. “In other words, observing.”

She watched him grind his teeth together. Every muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched several times before he trusted himself to speak.

“Whatever I’m doing, it’s my job,” he said. “These kids don’t need an audience.”

“Hardly an audience. One woman. In the background. Watching.”

“No.”

“Look,” Michaels interrupted, apparently sensing that there was going to be no time limit at all to this argument, “all I need to know is if you can do it.”

Kevin, still scowling, said, “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good, thanks.” Touching the brim of his hat with his fingertips, he glanced at Lilah and said, “Ma’am, enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” she said, but he had already done an about-face and was striding away, leaving she and Kevin alone again.

Before she had the chance to open the discussion again though, he was looking at her. “Forget about it,” he said tightly.

One thing Lilah had never been able to stand was being told what to do. Another reason why she’d never have made it in the military.

“I could pull rank on you,” she said.

“You don’t have a rank,” he reminded her.

“My father does.”

“He’d be on my side.”

Hmm. She suspected that was true. Her father was a stickler for the rules. Poor man.

“What harm could it do?”

“None, ’cause you won’t be there.”

“You know,” she said, walking again, headed across the grounds toward a patch of grass where several squads were drilling, “I don’t need your permission.”

“Actually,” he said, falling into step beside her, “yeah. You do.”

“What?” She looked up, and her hair flew across her eyes. She clawed at it, then reached around, grabbing a handful of hair and holding it in place at the nape of her neck. Hard to argue with a person when your own hair was working against you.

“I’m a senior D.I.,” he said and darned if he didn’t look like he was enjoying himself, saying it. “I train the instructors. They answer to me. I look after the new recruits. I say who comes and goes.” He bent down again, bringing his gaze in a direct line with hers. “And I say you don’t go anywhere near the new recruits tonight. Understand?”

Lilah ducked back into the shadows as the bus pulled around the corner and came to a stop. Two in the morning and the faces she could make out through the windows were wild-eyed. “Probably scared to death,” she muttered, then slunk farther back into the darkness as the sound of footsteps rose up from close by.

Staff Sergeant Michaels, with Kevin Rogan just a step or two behind him, headed for the bus. The driver slammed the double doors open with a “thunk” that seemed to echo in the otherwise stillness.

Lilah went up on her toes and wished she was five inches taller. She’d never liked being short. People never took short people seriously. They always thought you were “cute.” Besides, she’d rather reach her own cereal down from the top shelf at the grocery store, thank you very much. But she’d never been as frustrated with her height as she was at the moment.

“Not bad enough I have to hide like a criminal,” she whispered, “but I go to all the trouble of coming down here and now I can’t see anything.”

Sergeant Michaels vaulted up the three steps into the bus and started his long walk down the narrow aisle. She caught glimpses of pale faces and she could only make out the Gunny’s silhouette, but she had no trouble at all hearing him.

“Listen up!” he thundered in a roar that was designed to capture everyone’s attention. “When I give you the word, you will get the hell off this bus. Then you will stand in the yellow footprints painted on the pavement. You will then wait for further instructions. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” came a desultory answer from only a handful of the kids trapped on that bus.

“From this moment on,” Michaels screamed and Lilah was pretty sure even she flinched, “you will begin and end every answer to every question with “sir.” Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” A few more voices this time.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

With that, he strode back down the center aisle, left the bus and stood just at the bottom of the steps. “Move, move, move, move…” he shouted and instantly, dozens of feet went into action.

Clamoring to hurry, racing to follow instructions, a bunch of kids who only the day before had only to worry about which hamburger joint to have lunch in rushed toward destiny. Lilah winced in silent sympathy for what she knew they’d be going through soon. Boot camp was rough, but if they made it through, each of those kids would be stronger than they ever would have believed possible. Heaven knew she had never really felt as though she belonged, but she respected what the Corps could do. What they represented. What was possible with the kind of teamwork taught in the Marines.

A flash of pride swelled inside her as she listened to those feet hustling off the bus. They were scared now, but in a few short weeks, they’d be proud.

“I should have known,” a voice came from right beside her and Lilah jumped, just managing to stifle a screech of surprise.

Grabbing the base of her throat, she half turned and looked up into now familiar green eyes. “Good God, you almost killed me,” she said.

“Don’t tempt me.”

She straightened up to her full, less than impressive height. “Hey, I’m not one of those kids, you can’t order me around.”

“That seems pretty clear,” he muttered, then grabbed her upper arm in a grip that told her his temper was carefully leashed. “Why are you here?”

Lilah flashed him a grin. “Because you told me I couldn’t be.”

“You know,” he said, with a shake of his head, “I never thought I’d feel sorry for an officer. But damned if I don’t feel some sympathy for the Colonel.”

“I’ll pass that along for you,” she said.