Читать книгу Her Soldier Of Fortune - Michelle Major - Страница 9

Chapter One

Nathan Fortune heard car wheels crunching up the driveway through the open kitchen window at his family’s ranch outside the tiny town of Paseo, Texas. It was almost noon, but he’d just made his second pot of coffee for the day.

Ignoring whoever was stopping by for an unannounced visit, he poured a steaming stream of coffee into a mug, took a big gulp, then promptly spit it into the sink. Grimacing, he grabbed a container of vanilla creamer from the refrigerator and dumped a generous amount into his cup. While it wasn’t up to the standards of his brother’s wife, at least it was palatable.

He’d never realized he made coffee that tasted like tar until late last spring when Ariana Lamonte arrived on the ranch. Hope sparked inside him that maybe Jayden and Ariana had returned to the ranch from their research trip down to Corpus Christi. They weren’t scheduled to be back until next week, but if they were here now he could definitely convince Ariana to make him a cup of coffee in that fancy espresso maker he and the third triplet, Grayson, had gotten for her last Christmas.

During his time as a navy SEAL, he’d come to master over a dozen different types of guns, but that shiny machine remained a mystery to him. Ariana loved coffee, and Nate needed caffeine like he needed air when memories of that final mission in Afghanistan kept him up at night. Sometimes he slept like the dead, and even managed to convince himself that he was getting over that last tragic mission. But then he’d wake in a cold sweat, nightmares prodding at him like an insistent finger, making sure he knew he could never move past the way he’d failed the man who had been his best friend.

The doorbell rang, and he sighed. Definitely not his brother and Ariana. He took another swig of coffee and wiped a sleeve across his mouth, approaching the front door slowly. Most people in Paseo knew Nate well enough to simply call out a greeting and let themselves in. Actually, most people would assume he was out working the land at this time of day. Normally they’d be right, except he’d been up half the night and needed coffee to keep him going—even the kind that tasted like burnt tar.

He opened the front door almost warily, not sure what to expect. Ever since he and his brothers had discovered that the father they thought had died during their mom’s pregnancy was not only alive, but was tech mogul Gerald Robinson, and more specifically Jerome Fortune, there was no telling who might show up on Nate’s doorstep. Jerome Fortune had faked his own death over thirty years ago, shortly after a fight with Nate’s mom, to make a break with his own controlling father, but as Gerald Robinson, he not only had eight legitimate children with his wife, Charlotte, but a host of illegitimate offspring.

Nothing could have prepared Nate for his body’s reaction to the woman who stood on his front porch, glancing around like she was more than a little lost. He didn’t recognize her, although there was something familiar in the big brown eyes that looked into his. What was wholly unfamiliar was the sharp prick of desire that stabbed him as he took in her delicate features—those molten chocolate eyes, a pert nose and lips that looked almost bee-stung in fullness despite being pressed into a tight line.

Her hair was thick and dark like her eyes, tumbling around her shoulders. She wore a plain white T-shirt over faded jeans, and Nate swallowed as his gaze took in the perfect curve of her breasts and hips. He promptly cursed himself for his line of thought. Here was a stranger at his front door, and he was ogling her like some sort of randy teenager instead of a grown man of thirty-seven.

“Can I help you?” he asked, hoping he sounded more polite than lecherous.

“Hi, Nate,” she said softly. “How are you?”

“Um...fine.” He took off his Stetson, slapping it against his thigh, and ran a hand through his hair with his other hand. “Do I know you?”

The woman flashed a shy smile. “I’m Bianca Shaw. Eddie’s sister. Don’t you remember me?”

Nate lifted one hand to grip the doorframe, whether to steady himself or to keep himself from reaching for Bianca, he couldn’t say. The beautiful woman in front of him was Eddie’s little sister?

“Busy Bee,” he murmured, repeating the nickname Eddie’d used for his younger sister.

She gave a short laugh. “I haven’t had someone call me that since...” Her voice trailed off as her hands clenched in tight fists at her side.

“I’m sorry about Eddie,” he offered, the words tasting like dust in his mouth. “He died a hero.” Nate cleared his throat. “If it helps.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and swiped her fingers across her cheek.

The familiar regret and blame churned through his stomach, turning the coffee he’d drunk to acid in his belly. Eddie Shaw had been like a brother to him. They’d met their first day of Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training—more routinely known as BUD/S. Although as a triplet, Nate had always been close to his brothers, he’d formed an immediate bond with the stocky, wisecracking soldier that was just as strong.

From the few times he’d been to Eddie’s mom’s cramped apartment in San Antonio, he remembered Eddie’s sister as a gangly teenager who giggled at everything and constantly tried to tag along with the brother who was nine years older than her. Eddie had been infinitely patient with Bianca, and even when they were stationed overseas or on a ship, he’d always taken the time to answer her overly perfumed letters and all the silly questions she asked about life as a navy SEAL.

“You’re here in Paseo,” he said, stating the obvious because his brain felt about five steps behind the reality of whatever was happening right now.

“I’m here,” she echoed and bit down on her bottom lip, her gaze skittering away from his like she was nervous about something. “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

Nate had met people from all over the world and all different walks of life during his stint in the US Navy. He’d become something of an expert on reading body language, and from the splotches of color blooming on Bianca’s cheeks to the rigid set of her thin shoulders to the tiny breath she blew out as if her lungs couldn’t handle Paseo’s clean air, Nate would have sworn on everything he had that the woman standing in front of him was in trouble.

Eddie’s sister was in trouble. The brother-in-arms whom Nate had failed to save during their last mission wouldn’t have let that happen. Neither would Nate. All he had left of Eddie were memories and the guilt that burned his gut. But he could honor Eddie by taking care of Bianca. It was the only thing he had left to offer.

He pushed aside his reaction to her, pretended he didn’t feel attraction pulsing through him like a drum beat and tried to see her as the girl she’d once been. Eddie’s baby sister. That was all she could ever be to Nate.

“What do you need, Bianca?” he asked, wishing suddenly he was a different kind of man. One who could give her everything she wanted and more.

* * *

Bianca’s breath whooshed out in a shuddery rush at Nathan Fortune’s simple question.

The summer she was five years old, new renters had moved into the tiny apartment next door to the cramped space where Bianca lived with her mom and Eddie. The walls in the run-down complex were paper-thin, and the young couple stayed up late with friends, music thumping so loud it would make the pictures on the wall vibrate. Bianca’s mom had quickly become a regular at the all-night parties, and Bianca would often wake in the middle of the night to laughter or voices yelling out or other strange noises she didn’t understand at the time.

She’d tiptoe from her tiny bedroom across the hall to where Eddie slept and listen to his regular breathing. When Bianca complained about the noise, her mom told her to plug her ears with toilet paper, but that never worked. She’d creep closer to the mattress Eddie slept on. Bianca had a real headboard for her twin bed, but Eddie only had a mattress pushed up against one wall.

Her brother always seemed to know when she was coming because by the time her knobby knees hit the threadbare covers, he’d sigh and ask, “What do you need, Bianca?” at the same time he’d lift one corner of the sheet so she could crawl in next to him.

She never had to answer the question out loud because Eddie always knew what she needed without her even saying it. There in the dark, with her big brother next to her, Bianca would fall back asleep. With Eddie at her side, it didn’t matter what was happening in the apartment next door. Eddie would keep her safe.

She was a big girl now and had been taking care of herself for enough time to know she didn’t need to rely on anyone. Everyone except Eddie had disappointed or abandoned her, so she’d quickly learned to stand on her own two feet. But recently she’d lost her footing as the angry hurricane of her life pummeled her from all sides. Now when she laid awake in the wee hours of the night, the only thing she wished was not to be so alone.

It was as if the universe had heard her silent plea and answered her need with Nathan Fortune. He stood in front of her, strong and sure, exactly the opposite of how Bianca felt. He was muscled and clearly in shape, his shoulders broad beneath the fabric of the chambray shirt he wore. His skin was tanned from the sun, despite the wide brim of his hat, and she could see a faint patchwork of lines fanning out from his light brown eyes when he smiled.

He was a few inches taller than Eddie had been but not so much that he towered over her. In fact, it looked as though she’d fit perfectly tucked underneath his shoulder. She locked her knees to keep from stepping into him, wrapping her arms around his lean waist and burying her face in his shirtfront.

“Now that you mention it,” she said with an awkward little laugh, “I was hoping I might stay with you for a few days.” She swallowed and added, “A week or two at the longest.” She glanced to either side of the farmhouse’s wraparound porch, as though the house itself might offer up an answer.

The ranch was just as Eddie had described it, with huge fields and rolling hills in the distance. The house was a charming, if modest, two-story stone structure with picture windows and faded trim that gave it a settled-in, well-loved look. “If you have room and it’s not too much of an inconvenience.”

“Are you in trouble?”

His gaze was unreadable as he studied her.

Yes, she was in big trouble because she’d sought out Nate in place of her brother, but her reaction to him was both unexpected and dangerous, as it threatened to overwhelm her at a time when she was already holding on to her composure by a thin thread.

“No,” she answered immediately, which she figured they both knew was a lie. “I just need a break from my life—a fresh start. Eddie thought of you as family, so I came to, as well. Even though you’re practically a stranger. He talked a lot about coming to visit Paseo between deployments. He really enjoyed his time on the ranch. So I thought—”

She sucked in a breath when Nate reached out and placed his fingertip against her lips. “You can stay here as long as you want, Bianca. Eddie was my family in every way that counts. In some weird way, that makes you my little sister.”

Bianca opened her mouth to argue. There were a hundred things she wanted from Nate, but for him to think of her as his little sister darn sure wasn’t one of them. But she needed a place to stay more than she cared to admit, so she simply leaned forward and gave him a small hug, the way she’d done with Eddie all the time. It was a test, she told herself, to see if she could ignore the way he made butterflies dance across her stomach. To see if she could pretend she didn’t notice his rock-hard abs when her fingers brushed his shirtfront or how good he smelled—like soap and the outdoors.

She managed it pretty well and didn’t even let the soft whimper that bubbled up in her throat escape into the charged air between them.

Instead she gave him one last pat on the back and stepped away, surprised to find him staring down at her like she’d just grabbed his butt.

“I’m alone here,” he blurted. “At the ranch.”

“Okay,” she answered with a shrug.

“My brother Grayson is touring with the rodeo and Mom manages his career, so she’s with him. Jayden and his wife won’t be back until next week.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Whenever Eddie was here, we had a full house.”

She nodded. “I think he was jealous that you were a triplet. He always wanted a brother or two. I look forward to meeting your family.”

“You might not be comfortable being out here with only me,” he suggested. “It’s a haul to town and Paseo is a postage stamp compared to San Antonio.”

“San Antonio is too crowded these days,” she countered, wondering why Nate suddenly looked so uncomfortable. He hadn’t shown a moment’s hesitation in offering her a place to stay, but now he seemed to be almost warning her away.

“I’m not great company,” he continued, glancing over his shoulder into the entry as if he might find a reason for her to venture inside the cozy farmhouse. “I make terrible coffee.”

“I can make my own coffee.”

“I’m grumpy in the morning. You might not like me when I’m grumpy.”

“As long as you don’t turn green and bust out of your clothes, I think I’ll manage.”

“I can be mean as a grizzly coming out of hibernation.”

“If you’ve changed your mind,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest to mimic his stance, “just tell me, Nate. Otherwise, you’re not going to scare me away. Remember, I grew up with a navy SEAL. Talk all you want about grizzlies, but I know you guys are big teddy bears at heart.”

“A teddy bear?” He shook his head, looking as offended as her late granny had when Bianca’s mom cursed in the middle of the Christmas church service. “I’m not a teddy bear and neither was your brother. In fact—”

“Want to see my teddy bear?” a voice called from Bianca’s car. The back door opened and a pair of scuffed sneakers hit the dust, the heels lighting up as they did. “His name is Roscoe, and he’s my best friend.”

“EJ,” Bianca called as the boy ran forward, swinging a battered stuffed animal above his head. “I told you to wait—”

“You talked too long, Mommy. Roscoe got bored. He wants to see everything.” Her beautiful, energetic, precocious four-year-old son climbed the front porch steps, and she automatically held out a hand. As was typical, EJ ignored it.

“Are you Uncle Eddie’s friend?” he asked Nate, who had taken a step back, staring at her boy like EJ was a snake in the grass. Or maybe it was shock over EJ’s resemblance to Eddie, with his dark hair, olive-colored skin and deep brown eyes that always seemed to be full of mischief. Mischief and EJ were bosom pals. “Are you a cowboy? Are we staying with you? Can I have a glass of water?”

EJ didn’t wait for an answer to any of his questions. He ducked away from Bianca when she reached for him and barreled past Nate, disappearing into the house.

Bianca started to follow but Nate filled the doorway, blocking her way. “Is there something—or someone—you forgot to mention?”

She flashed what she hoped was an innocent smile and managed to only cringe a little when there was a crash from inside the house. “That’s my son, EJ,” she said quickly. “And we’d better go after him unless all the other breakables in your house are nailed down.”