Hot-Blooded. Karen Foley
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A shadow moved in the trees behind her, but before he could lock his sights on the target, the girl blocked his shot. Cursing, he shifted to a better position, when he saw the flash of a muzzle blast from the trees. The female soldier jerked once and then fell forward, covering the other soldier’s body with her own and providing Chase with an unobstructed view of where the insurgent hid.
Only the man was no longer there.
Peering through the scope on his gun, Chase surveyed the area and saw the target lying in the grass beside a tree. He’d taken a direct hit, and Chase could see that he no longer posed a threat to anyone. He didn’t need to guess who had eliminated the target; only the sniper team on the far ridge could have made such a difficult shot.
He swept his rifle scope over the two fallen soldiers to see that the female had risen to her knees. After briefly examining a wound to her shoulder, she bent over and began doggedly dragging her unconscious buddy across the ground to the relative safety of the trucks. Chase continued to provide cover, although he knew the sniper team was probably covering her, as well.
As much as he admired the woman for her bravery, Chase could have cheerfully shaken her. If she hadn’t left the safety of her truck, then the gunner wouldn’t have felt the need to abandon his own post in order to protect her, and neither of them would now be injured.
Women. He snorted in disgust.
He came from a long and distinguished line of military service, but there was one main reason he’d opted to join the Marine Corps special-operations command: they didn’t allow females into their ranks.
He’d always maintained that women had no place in combat, an opinion that had less to do with their ability to do the job and more to do with the inability of their male counterparts to handle them doing the job. He’d seen hardened soldiers go soft and throw years of training and protocol out the window in order to protect a female soldier, or help her to complete a task that she could have handled on her own.
He had no idea if the gunner and the female soldier knew each other, but suspected there was some kind of romantic involvement. There usually was. The only thing worse than fighting alongside a female was fighting alongside one that you were also screwing, especially if you were fool enough to let it become about more than just sex. Nothing worse than letting a woman get under your skin.
The behavior he’d just witnessed only reinforced his belief that women shouldn’t be placed in combat situations. He was convinced that if the female soldier had been a man, the gunner never would have abandoned his post. He’d have used his turret gun to cover her, the way he’d been trained to do.
Chase couldn’t imagine losing control simply because a soldier was female. He prided himself on his ability to remain focused and make sound decisions, even under adverse conditions. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he’d never let a woman make him drop his guard on the battlefield. Or in the bedroom.
1
“IF YOU ASK ME, sex is overrated. I’ll admit that it’s pleasant, but earth-shattering? Not even close. Frankly, I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” Elena de la Vega arched a challenging eyebrow at her sister before taking a sip of her white wine.
“That’s because you haven’t had sex with the right guy,” Carmen replied with a secretive gleam in her eyes. “Yet.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Elena scoffed, telling herself she didn’t feel the tiniest bit jealous of the self-satisfied smile on Carmen’s face. “Am I really supposed to believe that every time you and Nick get it on, he makes your toes curl with lust?”
Carmen set her martini down and leaned across the small table they shared, glancing quickly around to ensure none of the other patrons at the cozy sidewalk café could overhear their conversation. “Let’s just say that Nick has a talent for making each time seem like the first time. You know, incredibly arousing. Exciting. Like I’m the hottest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. The way he looks at me, and the things he does” Her expression took on a dreamy quality.
Elena rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’ll take your word for it. Nick may be great in bed, but he’s also incredibly jealous. I couldn’t be with a guy like that.”
Carmen’s smile grew wider. “Nick just wants other guys to know I’m with him. So what if he glowers a little bit, or likes to stay close to me when we’re out together? At least he doesn’t ignore me. I’m a happy, satisfied woman. Can you say the same?”
Elena thought of her own boyfriend, Larry, and a small sigh escaped her. He wasn’t physically impressive, like Carmen’s Nick was, but he was smart and considerate. They’d worked in the same office together for three years and Elena had a lot of respect for him. Larry was a conscientious man who took his job as a cost auditor for the Defense Procurement Agency seriously. He was brilliant when it came to numbers. Elena told herself again that she didn’t mind if he worked long hours, or that he chose to spend most Saturdays in the office rather than with her. He treated her well, and when they did go out, he was a pleasant companion. Their typical routine was to catch a movie or a bite to eat, and then return to her apartment where he could be counted on to give her a very nice orgasm. Not an earth-shattering, body-clenching, toe-curling orgasm, but a nice one all the same.
“Larry is reliable,” she finally said, but didn’t meet her sister’s knowing eyes. Instead, she trailed the tip of her finger around the edge of her wineglass. “I know what to expect with Larry. We get together on Wednesday and Saturday nights, and if our love life is a little … predictable, then who I am to complain?” She raised her gaze to Carmen’s. “I actually prefer it that way.”
“What way?” asked Carmen archly. “Flat on your back, making all the right noises so that he feels like a real man, while you just wish he’d hurry up and finish?”
Elena stared at her sister, amazed. “How did—? No, wait. It isn’t like that.”
“Isn’t it? Don’t forget, you’re the one who dubbed him Old Faithful. As in … he’s predictable and lasts less than two minutes.”
Elena groaned and took a hefty swig of her wine. “That’s not fair. I was a little tipsy that night and said more than I should have. You’re taking it out of context. I dubbed him Old Faithful because he’s, well, dependable. Trustworthy. Faithful. All good traits for a man to have.”
“Or a dog,” Carmen muttered. Then, seeing Elena’s expression, she was instantly contrite. “I agree with you. Absolutely. Those are all good qualities for a man to have, but they shouldn’t be his only qualities. He should make your insides turn to mush and your pulse quicken just thinking about him.” Her expression grew earnest. “Please tell me you’re not going to marry this guy, Elena. You deserve so much more. Every woman should have one great passion in her life. Don’t settle for mediocrity.”
“He hasn’t asked me to marry him yet,” Elena grumbled. “And I said our love life is predictable, not mediocre.”
“Oh, come on,” Carmen scoffed, and sat back in her chair. “Your boyfriend is boring. Your life is boring. When was the last time you did something exciting? Something that made your heart pound and your mouth go dry?” She leaned forward again. “You’re almost thirty, Elena, and yet you’ve never done any of the wacky things that most people do when they’re in their twenties. Nick and I had sex on the roof of his building last night, under the stars. It was amazing.”
“Nick’s rooftop garden is amazing,” Elena said drily, ignoring her sister’s jabs. “I’m sure you’re not the first girl he’s brought up there.”
Carmen narrowed her eyes. “So what if I’m not the first? I’ll be the last.”
Elena shrugged. “Well, it’s your heart. Risk it if you want to.”
“See? That’s my whole point. You’re not willing to take any risks, Elena.