Page 51

His throat tightened. He knew one moment of doubt that he wasn’t following the advice his commander had given him. But his heart seized the gift she was offering. Her words about being with the man he was now were as healing as months of therapy. She didn’t see him as less—and she wanted him anyway. He couldn’t think of anything more right than being with Polly. He crossed the living room to her, feathered his fingers into the silky weight of her hair before tucking it behind her ear. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’d like that. All of that.”

For a moment, neither moved. Then she reached for his hand. Her palm was warm, sure, and she didn’t let go as she led him down the hall.

“Out,” he said to the dogs, who had followed them in a quiet parade. He nudged the door shut behind them, smiling at the twin thumps of tails and soft whines. After they wandered back to their beds, the room was silent—thick, charged, intimate.

He turned to face Polly. She stood at the edge of the bed, uncertain again, her eyes and hair glistening in the dim glow from the lamp beside the bed. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. “I mean, I know the nuts and bolts, of course, but if you’re expecting a seduction…”

Daniel smiled, gentle and patient, as he crossed over to her. He cupped her shoulders and gently ran his hands up and down her arms. “What do you want to do?”

Her gaze, open and trusting, found his. “A kiss,” she breathed. “I want a kiss.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start.”

He leaned into her slowly, every move deliberate, careful. And when she came into his arms, it wasn’t about desire so much as peace—two wounded souls finding quiet in each other’s touch.

Daniel cupped her face, his thumb tracing the soft curve of her cheek as if learning it by heart. “You tell me if I go too fast, all right?”

Polly nodded, her pulse fluttering beneath his touch. Nerves and courage mingled in her eyes, luminous in the faint lamplight. “And you’ll tell me if I do anything wrong? Anything you don’t like?”

“Not gonna happen.” He kissed her forehead first, then her temple, letting her feel the warmth of his breath before his lips found hers. The first touch was tentative, soft as a promise. The second deepened, slow and sure, the taste of her—warm and sweet—going straight to his heart.

Her fingers slid up his chest, tentative at first, then firmer, exploring the solid lines of muscle and the rough edges of old scars at his neck. The gentleness of her touch undid him more than any hunger could have. When he clasped her hips and pulled her body into his, her arms tightened around him and she pressed closer.

While their lips tangled together, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and dropped a condom onto the bedside table. His mission was to keep her safe, and he would protect her in every way.

When her fingers dipped beneath his shirt and lit a trail of fire against his bare skin, he tugged the shirt off over his head, giving her access to any part of him she wanted to touch and explore. Then he lifted her into his arms and laid her gently on the bed before lying down beside her. His leg landed between hers, and he rubbed his thigh against the heat he felt at the juncture of her thighs. He swallowed up her gasp of pleasure with a kiss, and he caught his own breath as her fingertips pressed into the base of his spine, and she pushed her hips into every caress.

Their clothes disappeared one by one, freeing up more skin to explore. He kissed the tight bead of her breast and pulled the responsive pearl into his mouth until she cried out his name.

“I’ve got you, Sunshine. It may hurt a little at first, but I swear I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

“I know. I trust you.”

They found a rhythm between them—breaths syncing, hearts steadying. The world outside narrowed to warmth and skin, the hush of sleet against glass, the whisper of sheets shifting as they moved closer still.

When her breath caught, he whispered against her ear, “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

She trembled, then melted into him, her touch both shy and sure, answering his patience with her own quiet need. Every movement was unhurried, every sigh a kind of discovery, until they both found the release they sought.

When they finally stilled, she clung to him, the sound of her heartbeat against his chest as steady as the frozen rain outside. He kissed the top of her head and felt something inside him settle—something he hadn’t known was still searching.

“You okay, Sunshine?”

“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” she whispered, her voice husky, full of wonder. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before snuggling closer as he pulled the covers over them both.

He brushed his thumb across her lower lip, still tingling from their kisses. “Me, either.”

“Thank you.”

He chuckled. “I believe I’m the one who should say thank you.”

She was so close, he felt her smile against his skin. Then she yawned again. “I feel so good, but so tired—like I’m going to fall asleep on my next breath. Is it always like that?”

“For some. If they’re lucky. Go ahead and nap. I’ve got you.”

“Will you sleep now, too?”

“Yeah, Sunshine. Feeling you against me? I think I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”