Cathie Linz - Cinderella's Sweet-Talking Marine

So here he was.

And there she was. He spotted her across the smoke-filled room. She was struggling to balance a tray filled with heavy beer mugs while avoiding the unwanted advances of a customer.

Ben was at her side a second later. “Let the lady go.”

His tone of voice, that of a Marine who meant business, got the customer’s attention despite the fact that he’d had a few too many brews. But it didn’t make him obey the order. “Who’re you?” the guy slurred.

“I’m the man who’s going to make you sorry you were born if you don’t let her go right now.”

This time the guy not only paid attention, he obeyed. Holding up his hands in the international signal of surrender, he said, “Hey bud, I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

Ben ignored the man and instead focused his attention on Ellie. She’d hurried on to another table, depositing the beers as quickly as she could before returning to the bar for another order.

She had incredibly long legs and a graceful way of moving. Her dark hair was pinned up as if she’d tried to get it out of her way, but one strand had come undone, drawing his attention to her nape. Her skin was creamy pale, not tanned. The line of her back was as rigidly upright as that of any private in the Marine Corps standing at attention.

She clearly didn’t belong in a place like this. So what was she doing working here?

Ellie was aware of the man staring at her. She’d noticed him the moment he’d walked in. He was that kind of guy. The kind you noticed. He had dark hair and was alarmingly handsome with light hazel eyes that caught her attention even from across the smoky room.

She also was aware that, given his short haircut, he was probably military. Which would explain his lean but muscular build and the tense and dangerous aura he projected. Camp Lejeune, one of the major Marine training bases, was almost an hour away. Not right in their backyard, but close enough to get an occasional visitor.

Ellie was grateful that the stranger rescued her from the huge bear of a drunk who’d been pawing her. But that didn’t mean that she was looking to start anything with this newcomer. Gratitude only went so far, and she’d learned early on that it didn’t pay to count on anyone but yourself.

She’d forgotten that lesson when she’d fallen in love with her ex-husband, Perry Jensen. She’d let him sweep her off her feet with his sweet-talking, charming ways. No good had come of it, except for her daughter, Amy. Amy was the reason for Ellie to get up in the morning.

That was especially true now that Ellie’s brother, Johnny, was dead. She still couldn’t believe that he was gone. She liked to think that he was still serving the Marines someplace overseas. But the arrival of the representative of the Marine Corps had been all too real when he’d told her the news of Johnny’s death, and conveyed the appreciation of a nation and the regret of the entire Corps.

Friendly fire. Under investigation. She’d only registered part of what the uniformed representative had said six weeks ago. Johnny had been buried with full military honors. She’d been given a folded flag as an official remembrance.

But Ellie couldn’t think about that now. She had a job to do. She couldn’t afford to give the manager of this dive any excuse to fire her. She needed the money.

The newcomer was still staring at her. She could feel his eyes on her, but his gaze didn’t have the smarmy feel of so many of the others. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt, which was common enough attire in this part of the country. But he wore them with a confidence that stood out. He stood out.

And he was walking toward her.

Great. Now she’d have to deal with him. Well, better to confront before being confronted. Keeping her smile cool and her voice equally so, she said, “Thanks again for your help.”

“I need to talk to you.”

Yeah, right. How many times had she heard that line since she’d started waitressing. Come on, honey, sit down and talk to me. “Sorry, but I’m very busy right now.”

“Ellie,” he began when she interrupted him.

“How do you know my name?”

“Can we go someplace to talk?”

“No.” The intense way he was looking at her made her nervous.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I’ve come to help.”

Yeah, right. “As I said, I’m busy right now.”

“This man bothering you?” Earl, the burly bartender, demanded. A professional wrestler in a previous life, Earl’s smooth head was as buffed as his muscular arms.

The newcomer didn’t appear the least bit intimidated. “Where were you when that drunk customer was bothering her?” he demanded of Earl.

“Serving drinks, that’s where I was. I may have missed that action but I can still take you out if I have to.”

“There’s no need for that,” Ellie said, putting her hand on Earl’s beefy arm, just above the barbed wire tattoo and below the one of a bulldog.

“Former Marine?” the newcomer asked Earl who nodded.

The newcomer then lifted the cuff on his T-shirt to show his own bulldog tattoo.

“Ooh-rah!” Earl shouted, startling Ellie and half the guys at the bar.

“Ooh-rah!” the newcomer repeated, just as intensely if not as loudly before slapping Earl’s outstretched hand in a high five. “Captain Ben Kozlowski,” he said to Earl. “Do you mind if I talk to Ellie here for a few minutes? It’s official business.”

Her heart stopped. “Is it Johnny? Did they make a mistake? Is he still alive?”

She vaguely saw Ben shake his head before the entire room telescoped and went black.

Ben caught Ellie before she collapsed onto the floor. Sweeping her up into his arms, he followed Earl’s hurried directions to the employee’s exit and the fresh air outside. A rush of warmth hit him, rising from the pavement.

Although it was only early March, the temperature was already in the low eighties today. The bright sunlight highlighted Ellie’s pale face. She felt so fragile as he carried her.

Ben cursed himself for not having handled things better. But his track record in that department lately was pretty abysmal. He hadn’t been doing much right lately. He wasn’t here on any official business of the Marine Corps, he was here to honor his buddy’s dying wishes.

Heading for his Bronco, Ben shifted her in his arms as he opened the passenger door and gently set her on the seat before reaching for the bottle of water he had nearby. Keeping one arm around her, he dabbed some water on a paper towel he ripped from a roll behind the driver’s seat. Before placing the dampened cloth on her forehead, he felt her neck to check her pulse. Her skin was so soft beneath his fingertips.

“Get your hands off me!” She shoved him away with surprising strength and he narrowly avoided hitting the back of his head on the dashboard.

“Take it easy,” he said in a soothing voice, holding his hands up as the guy had in the bar earlier. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She knew better. He’d already hurt her just by being here. And he’d angered her by showing up at her place of employment. She felt like an idiot for passing out the way she had, even if it had only been for a moment. She glared at him. She’d displayed weakness, something she hated, and it was all his fault. Reason alone to want him gone. “Since when do the Marines send someone out of uniform to do anything official? I’m not buying that story for one minute. So you’d better start talking, Captain, and you’d better start talking fast or I’ll have Earl take care of you.” Her words reflected her fury. “What kind of idiot walks into a bar and tells a woman who’s recently lost her brother what you told me?”

“Let’s start over, shall we? My name is Ben Kozlowski. I knew your brother. He was a close buddy of mine.”