Last Virgin In California. Maureen Child
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sentence being alarm. If she had any sense, she’d go inside and tell her father that she couldn’t stay after all. Then she’d pack up and go home to San Francisco. Back to the world where she felt comfortable and wanted and respected.
But she knew darn well that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Not after a kiss like that.
She wanted another one and then, maybe, another one after that.
And giving in to that thought, she looked up at him, went up on her toes and slanted her mouth against his. He went rigid, as if suddenly called to attention. But electricity hummed between them, lighting up Lilah’s insides and pushing her to go for more. She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head to one side, giving him more and silently asking him to return the favor.
Moments ticked past and still she waited for a response. When it finally came, it was more than she had hoped for. His arms went around her middle, his hands fisting at the small of her back, pulling her tightly to him. She felt his need pulsing through her as he parted her lips with his tongue and reclaimed her mouth.
Lilah sighed into him and she heard him swallow a groan that rumbled up from deep in his chest. He yanked her flush against him and instantly she became aware of the rock-hard proof of his desire for her. A flicker of something damp and hot and unbelievably exciting settled and pooled deep within her and Lilah wanted nothing more than to give in to it.
His breath puffed across her cheek, his warmth and strength surrounded her. The silence of the night crept close, making their rapid heartbeats and ragged breathing the only sounds she heard.
Then he tore his mouth from hers and stared down at her with wild-eyed, deep-rooted shock. But despite the denial she knew was coming, he couldn’t disguise the passion she saw in his gaze. Not to mention the fact that his body was telling her all she needed to know about whether or not he wanted her.
“Why’d you do that?” he demanded, sliding his hands from her back to her upper arms. His fingers pushed into her flesh, but in spite of his strength, or maybe because of it, his grip was still gentle. “Didn’t we just say that it would be better if we both forgot about that other kiss?”
“Actually no,” she said, and took a deep breath in a futile attempt to slow down her heartbeat. “You said that.”
“Whatever.”
“And,” she went on as if he hadn’t spoken at all, “I figured if you’re going to forget something, might as well make it memorable.”
“Memorable? If it’s memorable, you don’t forget.”
“Good. I don’t want to.”
“What kind of game are you playing?” he asked, releasing her and taking a long step backward.
“Who’s playing?” she asked and locked her knees to keep them from liquefying.
“Look,” he ground out, “you’re here for a few weeks. You’re my Commanding Officer’s daughter and you’re engaged to some poor guy who probably thinks you’re missing him.”
She imagined Ray, no doubt at home, having dinner with Victor and not giving her a second thought. Ah, the old “tangled web” parable about deception had just risen up to bite her in the rear.
If she told him that she wanted him, then she was a cheating fiancée. If she told him the truth, that she wasn’t engaged to Ray, then she was a liar. Hmm. No way to win there.
Which was probably for the best, she told herself as her blood cooled and her brain cleared. No matter how good a kisser Kevin Rogan was, the plain fact was that there could be nothing between them. He was military and she just didn’t do military very well.
Nodding to herself, she said, “You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” she quipped. “Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in a while.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly.
“So we’re agreed then?”
“On?”
“On the fact that there’s going to be no more kissing between us.”
He nodded shortly. “Yeah, we’re agreed.”
“Okay then.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” She looked up at him, then shifted her gaze to the house behind her. “I guess I’d better go inside.”
“Yeah, you probably should,” he said.
She was freezing on the outside and bubbling hot on the inside. It just didn’t seem fair. But then, this was probably just punishment for allowing herself to get so turned on in the first place.
After all, she should know better. She’d long ago accepted her unofficial title of the Last Virgin in California.
She sat down on the edge of the low wall, swung her legs over and stood up in the middle of her father’s rose bushes. A stray thorn or two tugged at the folds of her sweater, but she ignored them.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He took a step back from the wall. “I’ll be here.”
“All right then. Good night.” Lilah turned, paused, then looked over her shoulder at him. In the indistinct wash of moonlight, with the fog stretching out behind him, he looked impossibly gorgeous and as unreachable as the stars overhead. So she couldn’t resist saying, “Just for the record, you’re a great kisser.”
He scowled at her and she headed for the house. She could feel Kevin’s gaze locked on her. Heat blasted through her as surely as if she’d been standing with her back to a roaring fire. It was all she could do not to shiver again.
She was in some serious trouble, here.
So it was a good thing she didn’t hear Kevin mutter thickly, “You’re not a bad kisser yourself.”
One week.
She’d only been on base one lousy week and Kevin’s world was pretty much shot to hell. He wasn’t even getting any sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face, heard her voice, listened to the faint sound of those blasted bells that were as much a part of her as that long blond hair.
Scowling fiercely enough to keep all but the bravest souls at arm’s length, Kevin stepped into the PX. He nodded to the cashier, then walked straight to the back of the room. He opened the refrigerator door, pulled a soda off the shelf and turned to leave.
“Hello. Gunnery Sergeant Rogan, isn’t it?”
He froze, looked to his right and managed to give the older woman striding up to him a tight smile. If not for Lilah, Frances Holden wouldn’t have known him from Adam. But because the Colonel’s daughter had insisted on touring the child-care facility on base, he was now acquainted with the gray-haired woman in charge of the place.
She had a no-nonsense walk, a twinkle in her eyes and a short, square body that the base children seemed to love to cuddle up to.
“Ma’am,” he said, gripping the neck of his soda bottle in one tight fist, “it’s good to see you again.”
She laughed, a booming sound that he swore rattled some of the glassware on the nearby shelves. “Liar.” She held out her right hand and he took it in a firm grip. When she let him go again, she said, “Right now you’re thinking, ‘what does this old bag want and how long will it take.’”
“No, ma’am,” he argued quickly, though he was wondering if the nursery school teacher did a little mind reading on the side.
“I won’t keep you but a minute,” she said, lifting one hand to wave away his objections. “When I saw you, I just had to say something.”
“Ma’am?”