Stranded With The Sergeant. Cathie Linz
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“Why do you want to know?” She sounded curious.
“Because I’ve been ordered to give her the deluxe tour of the base and I want to be nice to her.”
“I don’t think you should single her out for any special treatment.”
“Hey, I’m just following orders here.”
“Right. Semper fi. A Marine always does his duty.” Her voice held a new edge.
“You don’t sound very pleased about that. I wonder why? Did you date a Marine or something?”
“That’s a safe bet,” she retorted. “Since this base is home to the largest concentration of Marines and sailors in the world, it would be hard to avoid bumping into a Marine in this part of North Carolina.”
“I wouldn’t mind bumping into you,” Joe murmured with a lopsided grin. “Just name the time and place.”
“I no longer date Marines,” she loftily informed him.
“Why’s that?”
“My reasons are too lengthy to go into here.”
“I’ve got time.” He was certainly in no hurry to have to deal with the kids.
“Well, I don’t,” she replied in irritation. The way she tossed her head and flicked her hair away from her face reminded him of a feral cat he’d tamed as a kid. That cat had refused to let anyone touch it, but Joe had slowly and patiently won it over. That same patience had come in handy where women were concerned.
“So tell me later.”
“Why should I do that?” she said.
“Because I’m a nice guy?”
“Who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”
Ouch. So the little cat had claws. Placing his open hand on his chest, he said, “You wound me, ma’am.”
“I sincerely doubt that, Sergeant. I sincerely doubt any woman has wounded you.”
“Why? Because I’m a big, tough Marine?”
“Because you use your charm to keep them at a distance.”
“Hey, if I’m using my charm to keep women at a distance, then something is definitely wrong with my game plan.”
“Game plan? Don’t you mean your battle plan?”
“As in battle between the sexes?” Joe moved closer, so that he could smell her perfume. It was tart and citrusy.
Shifting his attention to that lush smart-talking mouth of hers, he wondered if she’d taste as good as she smelled. Oh, yeah, he had no doubt she’d taste better than a cold beer after a long hike.
He had to grin at his own lack of poetry. Beer and a long hike…that sounded like something his best friend Curt Blackwell would say about his new wife, Jessie.
Joe and Curt had gone to boot camp together and been buddies ever since. Curt was a brooding loner, but that didn’t seem to stop the ladies from lining up for him. Still, Curt had come to Joe for advice when it mattered, when he’d been reunited with Jessie after years apart.
Joe’s advice was good. Jessie had apparently agreed, because she’d become Curt’s wife last year in a full Marine dress wedding with Joe there as Curt’s best man.
Yeah, this male/female flirting stuff was something Joe could still handle with one arm tied behind his back…although he’d have preferred having one arm around the sexy schoolteacher’s shoulders.
She was narrowing her chocolate-brown eyes at him, as if she were able to read his thoughts and wanted to challenge him on their accuracy. Great. He loved a challenge. Especially one that involved a good-looking woman.
“I take it you consider yourself to be an expert in the battle between the sexes,” she said.
“My motto is make love, not war.”
“I’m sure that didn’t come out of the U.S. Marine Procedural Manual.”
“If you’ve been dating guys who base their romantic approach on the Marine Procedural Manual, then I can understand your dissatisfaction,” he murmured. “And I’d love to have the chance to show you how a real Marine woos a woman.” He leaned closer as if tempting her to kiss him, before leaning away to smile at the startled awareness in her eyes. “After I take care of my duty and give the Sergeant Major’s kid her tour. Which one is she? The one with the pigtails and strange socks?”
“No.”
He scanned the roomful of kids, trying to look for some kind of familial resemblance. “Then she must be the one with the short haircut and glasses.”
“Wrong again,” she said coolly.
“Are we going to play twenty questions all day or are you going to tell me which kid is the Sergeant Major’s?”
“A few minutes ago you told me you had plenty of time.”
“A few minutes ago I did have time until…”
“You wasted it flirting with me?” she countered mockingly.
“Look, cut me some slack here, would you?” he said in exasperation. “I’m having a bad day. Just tell me which kid is the Sergeant Major’s so I can figure out where to go from here with this tour stuff. I’m only following…”
“Orders,” she completed the sentence for him. “Yes, I heard you the first time you said that.”
“So what’s the problem?” Joe demanded.
“The problem is that none of these children are Sergeant Major Martin’s.”
Joe frowned. “But that’s not possible. He told me his daughter’s class was here for a tour.”
“His daughter’s class is here for a tour.”
Joe had a bad feeling. “You mean…?”
“That I’m Sergeant Major Martin’s daughter?” the sexy teacher said with a smug smile that didn’t bode well for him. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
Chapter Two
Prudence Martin watched chagrin flash across Joe Wilder’s handsome face. She’d never seen eyes so Mel Gibson blue. In fact, this Marine favored Mel in several ways—same color brown hair, same square jaw, same humorous glint in his so-blue eyes. Although she could have sworn that she’d seen a glimpse of panic when he’d first entered the room, now she thought she must have imagined it.
He had the same erect military posture of most Marines, but Joe Wilder had something else. A presence. The kids noticed it. They’d quieted noticeably since his arrival.
The khaki service uniform he wore, with its crisp shirt and matching tie and web belt with darker trousers, wasn’t the best color in the world on most men, but she doubted anything looked bad on this man.
And she was stuck spending the weekend with him. Some women might dream of spending time with a sexy man in uniform. Not her.
“Sorry for the confusion, ma’am,” Joe was saying, his voice as smooth as the rest of him. “When your father referred to you as his little princess, I naturally thought…”
“The wrong thing,” she interrupted him to say. She hated her father’s nickname for her. Little Princess. Just hearing it set her teeth on edge.
“I see that now.” The earlier once-over visual he’d given her was back, only much more restrained now that he knew she was his commanding officer’s daughter. Prudence was used to that information making a difference with men—with Marines in particular. Which was one of the major reasons she