Read Online Soldier's Redemption by Alice Sharpe - Free Book Online Page B

average male, but the true extent of his fitness left her shaky.
    She turned back around and replaced the clown. Raising her gaze, she saw in the mirror that he was now standing right behind her, his reflected image intent on what she was doing. The man moved like a cat, limp and all.
    She closed the drawer and turned again, ending up right against him. She was as aware of the towel knotted at his waist as she was the clean, fresh scent of his newly washed skin.
    “I wasn’t prying,” she said. “I was looking for your pajamas.”
    He smiled that way he had. “I don’t wear pajamas.”
    Of course he didn’t.
    He took her hand and led her toward the bed.
    “How’s your head?” she asked.
    “Nothing an old soldier can’t handle,” he said and sat down. As the towel rode up his muscular thighs, she got a glimpse of his left knee and swallowed a gasp.
    His gaze followed the direction of her own. “Sit down,” he said gently.
    She sat down beside him. “Does it hurt?”
    “My knee? Yeah, at times. I must have fallen on it tonight.”
    It was obvious he’d had more than one operation and also that it was relatively new as the scars hadn’t entirely healed. She touched the surrounding skin, and he flinched. She got the feeling it wasn’t because she’d hurt him but because she’d actually touched him.
    He raised her chin with his fingertips. “I took a piece of shrapnel in Afghanistan.”
    “I’m so sorry.”
    “I got out alive. The others weren’t so lucky, so all and all, a limp is a small price to pay.”
    “And it cut your career short?”
    “I could have stayed on and done other kinds of work, but that wasn’t what I wanted. By the time I got out of rehab, I was finished with that part of my life. Now you know the whole story.”
    She doubted it. He was glossing over the physical and emotional pain he must have experienced, but she understood his instinct to protect himself.
    “I’ll turn my back, and you can get under the covers,” she said, trying not to imagine what he would look like when that towel fell to the floor.
    “You don’t have to turn your back,” he said, his mouth very close to hers.
    “You have a head injury,” she whispered.
    He glanced down at his lap, and her gaze followed. It was obvious his body was responding with a mind of its own, and she yearned to touch the growing shape, strip away the towel, feast her eyes on him, feel her against him and inside of her. She licked her lips.
    “You smell wonderful,” he said, nuzzling her neck. His breath was hot against her skin as his hands slid around her back. She leaned into him. His mouth closed over hers, and she felt like she was drowning, sensations coming over her like waves she couldn’t climb. The kisses grew deeper, one hand buried in her hair, the other caressing her neck.
    Her uncle never would have admitted Cole into his home if Cole hadn’t checked out to be who and what he said he was. But that kind of check didn’t address a person’s character directly; only time and experience would reveal those traits.
    Did she care? Right this second? Um, no.
    He pulled her back on the bed and half covered her with his hard, lean body. As he kissed her over and over, deeper and harder, his hands roamed her chest, and though no buttons were undone or straps removed, her flesh felt almost naked under the heat of his fingers. He pulled her against him and delivered the granddaddy of kisses while his hand caught the bare flesh of her thigh, and she knew it was time to shed her clothes. Instead, he caught her shoulders and sat up, pulling her with him, holding her so tight against his chest she couldn’t breathe and she didn’t care. When he looked down at her, she stared back, lips parted, eyes half closed. He looked as frazzled as she felt.
    “Skylar? This isn’t a good idea,” he whispered.
    She wanted only to wrap her arms around his solid torso. She was hot and moist and feeling almost drunk with desire. What was