Mercenary's Woman. Diana Palmer

Beverly, this girl he’d met at the college where he taught. Mom couldn’t live in the same town with everybody knowing that Dad had thrown her over for someone younger. She married a man she hardly knew shortly afterward, just to save her pride.” She stared at his mouth with more hunger than she realized. “I knew that I’d never see you again. I only wanted you to kiss me.” She swallowed, averting her eyes. “I must have been crazy.”

      “We both were.” He cupped her face in his hands and lifted it to his quiet eyes. “For what it’s worth, I never meant it to go further than a kiss. A very chaste kiss, at that.” His eyes drifted down involuntarily to the soft thrust of her breasts almost touching his shirt. He raised an eyebrow at the obvious points. “That’s why it wasn’t chaste.”

      She didn’t understand. “What is?”

      He looked absolutely exasperated. “How can you be that old and know nothing?” he asked. He glanced over her shoulder at Stevie, who was facing the other way and giving the punching bag hell. He took Sally’s own finger and drew it across her taut breast. He looked straight into her eyes as he said softly, “That’s why.”

      She realized that it must have something to do with being aroused, but no one had ever told her blatantly that it was a visible sign of desire. She went scarlet.

      “You greenhorn,” he murmured indulgently. “What a babe in arms.”

      “I don’t read those sort of books,” she said haughtily.

      “You should. In fact, I’ll buy you a set of them. Maybe a few videos, too,” he murmured absently, watching the expressions come and go on her face.

      “You varmint…!”

      He caught her top lip in both of his and ran his tongue lazily under it. She stiffened, but her hands were clinging to him, not pushing.

      “You remember that, don’t you, Sally?” he murmured with a smile. “Do you remember what comes next?”

      She jerked back from him, staggering. Her eyes found Stevie, still oblivious to the adults.

      Eb’s eyes were blatant on the thrust of her breasts and he was smiling.

      She crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at him. “You just stop that,” she gritted. “I’ll bet you weren’t born knowing everything!”

      He chuckled. “No, I wasn’t. But I didn’t have a mother to keep my nose clean, either,” he said. “My old man was military down to his toenails, and he didn’t believe in gentle handling or delicacy. He used women until the day he died.” He laughed coldly. “He told me that there was no such thing as a good woman, that they were to be enjoyed and put aside.”

      She was appalled. “Didn’t he love your mother?”

      “He wanted her, and she wouldn’t be with him until they got married,” he said simply. “So they got married. She died having me. They were living in a small town outside the military base where he was stationed. He was overseas on assignment and she lived alone, isolated. She went into labor and there were complications. There was nothing that could have been done for her by the time she was found. If a neighbor hadn’t come to look in on us, I’d have died with her.”

      “It must have been a shock for your father,” she said.

      “If it was, it never showed. He left me with a cousin until I was old enough to obey orders, then I went to live with him. I learned a lot from him, but he wasn’t a loving man.” His eyes narrowed on her soft face. “I followed his example and joined the army. I was lucky enough to get into the Green Berets. Then when I was due for discharge, a man approached me about a top secret assignment and told me what it would pay.” He shrugged. “Money is a great temptation for a young man with a domineering father. I said yes and he never spoke to me again. He said that what I was doing was a perversion of the military, and that I wasn’t fit to be any officer’s son. He disowned me on the spot. I didn’t hear from him again. A few years later, I got a letter from his post commander, stating that he’d died in combat. He had a military funeral with full honors.”

      The pain of those years was in his lean, hard face. Impulsively she put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry,” she told him quietly. “He must have been the sort of man who only sees one side of any argument.”

      He was surprised by her compassion. “Don’t you think mercenaries are evil, Miss Purity?” he asked sarcastically.