Jo Leigh - Men In Uniform - Taken By The Soldier

Men in Uniform: Taken by the Soldier

The Soldier’s Untamed Heart

Nikki Logan

Closer?

Jo Leigh

Groom Under Fire

Lisa Childs

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page Men in Uniform: Taken by the Soldier The Soldier’s Untamed Heart Nikki Logan Closer? Jo Leigh Groom Under Fire Lisa Childs www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Soldier’s Untamed Heart The Soldier’s Untamed Heart Nikki Logan

About the Author NIKKI LOGAN lives on the edge of a string of wetlands in Western Australia with her partner and a menagerie of animals. She writes captivating nature-based stories full of romance in descriptive natural environments. She believes the danger and richness of wild places perfectly mirror the passion and risk of falling in love. Nikki loves to hear from readers via www.nikkilogan.com.au or through social media. Find her on Twitter, @ReadNikkiLogan , and Facebook , NikkiLoganAuthor.

Dedication For Maus Kristi, you endured the worst year of your life while I was enjoying the best of mine. Romy is someone I’d like to have in my corner in a difficult time, I hope I was there for you in yours. Thank you for lending me your boys. I want to acknowledge the assistance of Squadron Leader Jeff Newton of the Royal Australian Air Force (who has some of the strongest glue I’ve ever seen going on in his family) and Ammon Hontz (ret. U.S. Army) for their military insight and assistance. To Sandra and Kate, my walking buddies and beta-readers, There’s a little bit of each of you in this one, girls. Thanks for being a fantastic cheer squad.

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

Closer?

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Groom Under Fire

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Copyright

The Soldier’s Untamed Heart

Nikki Logan

NIKKI LOGANlives on the edge of a string of wetlands in Western Australia with her partner and a menagerie of animals. She writes captivating nature-based stories full of romance in descriptive natural environments. She believes the danger and richness of wild places perfectly mirror the passion and risk of falling in love. Nikki loves to hear from readers via www.nikkilogan.com.auor through social media. Find her on Twitter, @ReadNikkiLogan, and Facebook, NikkiLoganAuthor.

For Maus

Kristi, you endured the worst year of your life while I was enjoying the best of mine. Romy is someone I’d like to have in my corner in a difficult time, I hope I was there for you in yours. Thank you for lending me your boys.

I want to acknowledge the assistance of Squadron Leader Jeff Newton of the Royal Australian Air Force (who has some of the strongest glue I’ve ever seen going on in his family) and Ammon Hontz (ret. U.S. Army) for their military insight and assistance.

To Sandra and Kate, my walking buddies and beta-readers, There’s a little bit of each of you in this one, girls. Thanks for being a fantastic cheer squad.

IT WAS hard to know what was putting the doof-doof into Romy Carvell’s heartbeat—the illicit thrill of slipping a fine crystal ornament unseen into her coat pocket, or the lean, mean, gorgeous machine squatted chatting to her son two aisles away. She glanced surreptitiously in the convex mirror mounted over the counter. It was supposed to help them monitor the park gift shop but, right now, it conveniently gave her a perfect tool to watch anyone watching her.

The ornament clanked gently against the two other items she’d stolen as it nestled into the deep recesses of her light coat.

Her gaze drifted back to the crouched man talking to Leighton. Her son was listening but not responding, par for the course lately. Silence or conflict. Something about being eight years old. The fact he hadn’t yet made a beeline for her side meant he was feeling comfortable about the stranger’s presence, which instantly made Romy feel comfortable about it. The man straightened and reached for something on a nearby shelf.

Her gut twisted.

Military.

Forget the due-for-a-cut hair, the three-day growth—military didn’t just wash off. This stranger had the residual carriage, the unmistakable forced casualness disguising a well-honed subliminal alertness.

He moved just like her father.

The man smiled at her son and then stepped away, giving him the space he needed. Leighton relaxed further now his escape route to his mum wasn’t closed off by a human roadblock, his gentle grey eyes searching her out.

And right on their tail was this stranger’s piercing green ones; they locked on Romy in the security mirror. She looked away, her heart thumping.

Okay… Definitely the man and not the shoplifting.

She shifted out of the mirror’s range and pulled her focus back to the job at hand, fanning herself with the tourism postcard she’d plucked from the overcrowded carousel stand. A lot rode on her success this morning and she was taking a big risk going for one more. Not because of the oblivious cashier whose attention was locked firmly on Mr Military over there—that only made her task all the easier. But those too-casual jade eyes monitoring her every move… They were the most likely danger to her chances of walking out of here with what she needed.

Romy drifted across his line of sight, feeling his focus glued on her even though his outward attention had returned to Leighton. Another military trait.

Just one more. Something spectacular. Something to really drive her message home. She picked up item after item and replaced them with care, moving casually towards the glass cabinet holding an array of opal and gold jewellery that probably sold like hot cakes to the wealthy tourists that frequented WildSprings Wilderness Retreat. The display was stupidly positioned, perfect for catching customer attention but in the worst possible spot for surveillance by the single cashier. And the mirror didn’t quite throw this far.