Read Online Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) by Lindsay McKenna - Free Book Online
Authors: Lindsay McKenna
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wore it during office hours.
Now Callie wanted to look beautiful tonight, too. She had already accepted the fact that Beau was growing on her, and so far there was nothing to dislike about him. Callie sternly warned herself it hadn’t been that long, though, and she wanted to take this one slow.
But damned if her hormones hadn’t kicked in when he looked like a lazy cougar sunning himself on a mountain ledge in the kitchen earlier. The guy was sensual in a quiet, powerful way, always reminding her that a hunter and predator lived just beneath his placid exterior.
Callie had no doubt that he was far from laid-back when out on a mission. Beau’s gray eyes gave him away, and sometimes, if he sensed something amiss, she saw him come online as a warrior, that energy gathering around him like a lethal storm. Right now, he was allowing her to see what she termed his “downside,” when he wasn’t being threatened or having to chase after a high-value target.
Looking in her closet now, she decided on a deep pink cowl-neck sweater to offset her black wool pantsuit. Fluffing her hair, she walked over to the mirror for a critical appraisal. Highlights of copper and gold blazed through her long, lightly curled hair as it cloaked her shoulders. She added a pair of small gold earrings to emphasize strands of her hair.
Long ago, she’d been given a one-ounce bottle of jasmine perfume for her birthday by her parents. It had to have cost them an arm and a leg, Callie now realized, and it was straight from Paris. She’d always loved that fragrance since she had first breathed it at the age of four, when her mother had allowed her a dab on the inside of her tiny wrist. Callie sniffed all day, not wanting to wash away the wonderful fragrance from her arm that night. Her mother had smiled and told her that when she was eighteen, they would buy her a bottle. It made her warm with memories.
Dabbing on just a tiny bit on the insides of her wrists, Callie tried to tell herself that she was doing this for herself, not Beau. In fact, she couldn’t get images of that lazy smile out of her head, or his careful, constant attention to those Afghan children. He was truly a babysitter of the best kind.
When she thought of him diapering babies, she immediately focused on his large, beautiful hands. She wondered what it would feel like to have him touch her as a lover. Callie didn’t fool herself for one moment. No matter how much Beau had backed off from her, she knew he wanted her badly.
Could he be wearing her down, little by little? Probably. He wasn’t black ops for nothing. Still, he had promised her he would be a gentleman, and to her, that meant he could look but not touch, unless she signaled otherwise.
The light scent of jasmine enveloped her for a moment and she inhaled it, taking it deep into her lungs. Tonight, she would put on a bit of makeup. Her long red lashes emphasized her green eyes, but she added a touch of moss-colored shadow above them. Her cheeks were naturally ruddy, and whether she liked it or not, she blushed often and deeply.
Callie had hoped she’d grow out of such a teenage response, but she never had. To her relief, her mother was the same way. Dara was more like their surgeon father in other ways. Choosing a soft pink lipstick that went with the color of her sweater, Callie stood back, critically assessing herself.
What would Beau think? He’d always seen her, with the exception of the night of the belly dancing, without any makeup. Her hair had never been down; it was always in a ponytail, like Dara’s. This was definitely a different Callie he’d be squiring around tonight!
*
Beau knocked at the front door of the B-hut right at 1900. As Callie locked the door to her room and turned, she could see him through the small window. He was dressed in his chinos and a cream-colored sweater with his black leather jacket over his powerful upper body. His hair looked recently washed, and she smiled to herself,
Now Callie wanted to look beautiful tonight, too. She had already accepted the fact that Beau was growing on her, and so far there was nothing to dislike about him. Callie sternly warned herself it hadn’t been that long, though, and she wanted to take this one slow.
But damned if her hormones hadn’t kicked in when he looked like a lazy cougar sunning himself on a mountain ledge in the kitchen earlier. The guy was sensual in a quiet, powerful way, always reminding her that a hunter and predator lived just beneath his placid exterior.
Callie had no doubt that he was far from laid-back when out on a mission. Beau’s gray eyes gave him away, and sometimes, if he sensed something amiss, she saw him come online as a warrior, that energy gathering around him like a lethal storm. Right now, he was allowing her to see what she termed his “downside,” when he wasn’t being threatened or having to chase after a high-value target.
Looking in her closet now, she decided on a deep pink cowl-neck sweater to offset her black wool pantsuit. Fluffing her hair, she walked over to the mirror for a critical appraisal. Highlights of copper and gold blazed through her long, lightly curled hair as it cloaked her shoulders. She added a pair of small gold earrings to emphasize strands of her hair.
Long ago, she’d been given a one-ounce bottle of jasmine perfume for her birthday by her parents. It had to have cost them an arm and a leg, Callie now realized, and it was straight from Paris. She’d always loved that fragrance since she had first breathed it at the age of four, when her mother had allowed her a dab on the inside of her tiny wrist. Callie sniffed all day, not wanting to wash away the wonderful fragrance from her arm that night. Her mother had smiled and told her that when she was eighteen, they would buy her a bottle. It made her warm with memories.
Dabbing on just a tiny bit on the insides of her wrists, Callie tried to tell herself that she was doing this for herself, not Beau. In fact, she couldn’t get images of that lazy smile out of her head, or his careful, constant attention to those Afghan children. He was truly a babysitter of the best kind.
When she thought of him diapering babies, she immediately focused on his large, beautiful hands. She wondered what it would feel like to have him touch her as a lover. Callie didn’t fool herself for one moment. No matter how much Beau had backed off from her, she knew he wanted her badly.
Could he be wearing her down, little by little? Probably. He wasn’t black ops for nothing. Still, he had promised her he would be a gentleman, and to her, that meant he could look but not touch, unless she signaled otherwise.
The light scent of jasmine enveloped her for a moment and she inhaled it, taking it deep into her lungs. Tonight, she would put on a bit of makeup. Her long red lashes emphasized her green eyes, but she added a touch of moss-colored shadow above them. Her cheeks were naturally ruddy, and whether she liked it or not, she blushed often and deeply.
Callie had hoped she’d grow out of such a teenage response, but she never had. To her relief, her mother was the same way. Dara was more like their surgeon father in other ways. Choosing a soft pink lipstick that went with the color of her sweater, Callie stood back, critically assessing herself.
What would Beau think? He’d always seen her, with the exception of the night of the belly dancing, without any makeup. Her hair had never been down; it was always in a ponytail, like Dara’s. This was definitely a different Callie he’d be squiring around tonight!
*
Beau knocked at the front door of the B-hut right at 1900. As Callie locked the door to her room and turned, she could see him through the small window. He was dressed in his chinos and a cream-colored sweater with his black leather jacket over his powerful upper body. His hair looked recently washed, and she smiled to herself,
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