Letters from Home (Love Beyond Reason #1)(22)

When he took her face in his hands, she covered the scar. “It’s so ugly. I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. It was dumb. An uncooperative private wouldn’t stay in recovery. Kept trying to get back out. Sergeant Podolski was supposed to go get him, and then the attack happened. Everyone, defending our position, moving patients to the bunker below us.”

He let her talk. She probably hadn’t had a chance.

“I went after the private. He was out back, smoking, during the raid.” She shook her head with a laugh. “There was so much morphine in his system, he probably had no idea there was a raid going on. It only lasted ten, maybe twelve minutes. But Podolski was hit, and I—”

“No. No guilt in living.”

And he kissed her, brought life back to the desire by melding his lips to hers. Heartbeats pounded into each other as he held her as close as possible. She hooked her feet behind his back, and their tongues met. He tasted her and was consumed.

Her hands tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it from his waistband, and then they were on him, and oh, my God. She trailed those delicate fingers over his skin. He dragged her with him, back to the living room, always keeping his lips against her skin, his hands on her body.

Her hands dipped down into the back of his pants. He couldn’t think, couldn’t get beyond wanting her, wanting this stupid—gorgeous—dress off her.

“Zipper. Where is the damn zipper?” He wanted skin on skin, his hands on her.

Now.

Finally, he reached down, lifting the dress from her knees over her head. Relief filled him. “Thank God.”

She laughed—the most beautiful sound—and she was braless, the only thing between them a narrow strip of silk sitting at her hips. His pulse pounded in his ears and his heart slammed against his chest.

He wanted to get on his knees before her. “I—” I want to marry you. I want to give myself to you and be yours forever.

“Cat got your tongue?” She laughed at him as her hand disappeared into his pants, and she cupped him.

He shuddered at the touch. “Lena.”

“Let’s make love,” she whispered.

And he could do no less.





Chapter Ten


Lena woke with the weight of Zack’s arm and leg pinning her. Pressed into the over-sized couch, a sheen of sweat dried on her skin, she dragged her fingers up the small of his back and back down over the slope of his cheeks. She had no idea what time it was, no idea how long they’d been lying like this, completely spent.

And there was her mother’s voice in her head, chastising her because they weren’t married. But she pushed aside the thought. This was the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. She didn’t know how yet. Maybe there were details that would need to be worked into the plan later. All she knew was that he’d had her heart since they were kids.

Had he written the letters? He hadn’t admitted it, but he hadn’t denied it, either. All that really mattered was that they belonged together. A thousand letters couldn’t break the bond they shared. “Stop thinking so much.” Zack pegged her with a sleepy-eyed, satisfied look.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“Your energy woke me.” He kissed her, making her moan and dive in, making her want to start all over again. But he rolled them over, scooted back on the couch, and rolled again so that she was on top of him, her bare ass exposed to the air.

“Maybe we should find a bed, because now I’m cold.”

He hummed in response as the heel of his hands massaged her lower back, the counter stroke covering her rear with his fingers—downward stroke of his palms, upward stroke of his fingers. “Are you cold now?”

She rested her forehead against his chest and sighed. “Yes, but I don’t care. Don’t stop doing that.”

His laugh rumbled through his chest. She turned her ear to listen, and Zack wrapped his arms around her.

“I was serious. Don’t stop.”

But he sat up, brought her legs across his lap, then stood, lifting her into his arms.

“Now my ass is really cold.” She nipped at his neck.

He carried her to his room, threw back the covers, and laid her gently against the sheets. “It’s ten o’clock.”

“What?” She sat up, covering herself with the blankets at the same time. “We slept for three hours on the couch? No wonder my ass is numb.”

“Ha! Doesn’t feel too numb to me…” Zack went through a doorway into the small bathroom.

She heard the toilet flush. The light went out, and it was dark again.

Excitement ran through her. Anticipation. She wanted him again.

But there was an edge of panic as well. They had so little time. Her brain wanted to work out all the details, get everything set and straight in her head.

Zack crawled under the covers and pulled her against him—her back to his front. She relaxed in his arms.

“Let’s not worry about tomorrow just yet.”

“Hey, how did—”

“Because I know you, Lena. I’ve known you almost my whole life.” He paused, and she couldn’t help but hold her breath. “And I love you. I don’t want you to worry about what’s going to happen between us. We’ll make it work—your career, my job…no matter what. Okay?”