Bonnie Gardner - Sergeant Darling

Ray Darling looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Well, Nurse Pritchard. I didn’t know you cared.”

The nurse tried not to smile, but Ray could see that the corners of her mouth had begun to twitch. Still, she did have that hypodermic needle in her hand.

So Sergeant Darling sucked it in and did as he was told. Getting a gamma globulin shot because somebody who worked in the base snack bar had contracted hepatitis B was bad enough, but having the “Ice Princess Nurse,” Prickly Pritchard, give it to him made it twice as bad. It surprised him that she’d actually responded to his lame line.

Prickly Pritchard was probably the best-looking nurse in the flight surgeon’s clinic. Ray was just as attracted to her as anyone else at Hurlburt Field, but more experienced men than he had tried to pierce her icy reserve and failed.

“Fire away, ma’am,” he said. He was a combat controller. He was tough. He could handle one small needle.

It was worse than he expected. Ray bit back a groan as the serum went in. He couldn’t help wondering if Prickly Pritchard got her thrills out of inflicting pain.

“Pull ’em up, Sergeant. I’m finished,” Nurse Pritchard said. “You can go.”

Dear Reader,

I’ve read so many romances that portray military men as rough, tough caricatures that I felt I had to write about the wonderful, three-dimensional men I had a chance to know when I was growing up as an army brat, and as an adult with an air force husband. Sure, these men are physically fit and trained in weapons and covert techniques, but they have hearts and minds and feelings, as well.

Most of these guys can certainly assault a building with guns in both hands if they have to, but more often they are Little League coaches and Boy Scout leaders. They eat MREs (Meal, Ready to Eat) if they have to, but they can also grill a steak and toss together an omelet. If they have any shortcoming, it’s that they fall in love too hard, and too fast.

Ray Darling is one of those guys, and he has to work hard to get Prickly Patsy Pritchard to give him a second glance. When she finally does, it’s magic. I hope you’ll love Ray (Radar) Darling as much as Patsy and I do.

Fondly,

Bonnie Gardner

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

876—UNCLE SARGE

911—SGT. BILLY’S BRIDE

958—THE SERGEANT’S SECRET SON

970—PRICELESS MARRIAGE

Sergeant Darling

Bonnie Gardner

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Mud, as always.

To all the men who’ve had to leave their women behind to fight for their country, and all the women who waited at home with yellow ribbons on their mailboxes and in their hair.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

“Drop your pants, Sergeant.”

Ray Darling looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Well, Nurse Pritchard. I didn’t know you cared.”

The nurse tried not to smile, but Ray could see that the corners of her mouth had begun to twitch. Still, she did have that hypodermic needle in her hand.

So Sergeant Darling sucked it in and did as he was told. It was bad enough to have to submit to getting a gamma globulin shot because somebody who worked in the base snack bar had contracted hepatitis B, but to have the “Ice Princess Nurse,” Prickly Pritchard, give it to him made it twice as bad. It surprised him that she’d actually responded to his lame line.

Prickly Pritchard was probably the best-looking nurse in the Flight Surgeon’s Clinic at Hurlburt Field, near Fort Walton Beach on the northern panhandle of Florida. She had a curvy figure that could put any underwear model to shame, blond hair, blue eyes and flawless skin. Unfortunately, the good nurse was as prickly as a cactus. Not that that seemed to matter to the servicemen who came to her clinic. Her signature rebuffs to anyone who showed the slightest attraction to her only succeeded in fanning the flames of interest and speculation by every red-blooded male on base.

Ray was just as attracted to her as anyone else on Hurlburt, but more experienced men than he had tried to get through her icy reserve and failed, so he had never tried. It sure would be a big boost to his ego if Ray were able to get to first base when the hotshot aviator types who believed they were God’s gifts to women hadn’t been able to melt through her icy shield.

It was worth a try. Just not today.

He might be an excellent sergeant after ten years in the air force, but he still hadn’t perfected his social skills. That had been one of the drawbacks of being a “boy genius,” something he’d done his best to conceal when he’d enlisted, mostly by keeping his mouth shut to keep his larger-than-average vocabulary from being apparent.

Twelve-year-olds in high school didn’t date, and when he’d enrolled in college at fourteen, he hadn’t had much time to try. And when he had, he’d struck out with the older women in his classes. After a while, he’d just quit trying.

And after he’d defied his parents and joined the air force instead of going on to graduate school at eighteen, he’d spent so much of his time learning how to be a good sergeant and trying to be a “regular guy” that dating hadn’t been a priority. Now at twenty-eight, he wished he’d had as much training in that particular area as he’d had in all things air force. Unfortunately, no book taught that particular skill. Not in any useful way, anyway. Although, the tired old line he’d heard in the movies had seemed to put a tiny dent in Nurse Pritchard’s armor.

“Fire away, ma’am,” he said, flinching as he felt the swipe from the alcohol wipe and steeled himself for the jab of the needle. He was a combat controller. He was tough. He could handle one small needle.

It was worse than he’d expected. Ray bit back a groan of pain as the serum went in. Damn. He’d thought he was prepared for it, but this was nowhere close to what he’d expected. He couldn’t help wondering if Prickly Pritchard got her thrills out of inflicting pain.

“Pull ’em up, Sergeant Darling, I’m finished,” Nurse Pritchard said, her tone all business. “You’ll be sore, but you’ll live. You can go.”

Ray half expected her to slap him on his butt, but thankfully, she didn’t. Figuring now wasn’t the best time to try anything with her, Ray pulled up his trousers and made a rapid exit.

He wasn’t really beating a hasty retreat. He’d been summoned by his commanding officer, for what he didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to hang around and trade shots with Pritchard, even if he thought he’d gotten in a couple of points with that twitch of a smile. She’d already won anyway, he thought with a wry smile, and resisted the urge to rub his rump, as he strode away.

“YOU KNOW, that one’s pretty cute, Patsy,” Senior Airman Nancy Oakley, the receptionist, commented to Nurse Pritchard as she stepped into the waiting room to call her next patient. “If I didn’t have my own personal sweetie, I might give him a run for his money,” she continued, patting her pregnant stomach.