Merline Lovelace - Military Heroes Bundle - A Soldier's Homecoming / A Soldier's Redemption / Danger in the Desert / Strangers When We Meet / Grayson's Surrender / Taking Cover

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A sexy, adventure-filled collection featuring daring military heroes and the women they'd die for!New York Times bestselling author Rachel LeeA Soldier's Homecoming & A Soldier's RedemptionUSA TODAY bestselling author Merline LovelaceDanger in the Desert & Strangers When We MeetUSA TODAY bestselling author Catherine MannGrayson's Surrender & Taking CoverFor more stories like these, turn to Harlequin Romantic Suspense. 4 new titles are available every month!

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Outside, the storm continued to rumble and growl, a beast at bay. She noted that sometimes Ethan would tilt his head and listen to it, as if he could hear things in that grumbling. A little shiver snaked through her as she once again had the feeling that there was something very, very special about Ethan Parish. Something beyond the ordinary.

She tried to tell herself that he was just a man like any other, that she was just being fanciful, but for some reason she couldn’t shake the feeling that the man sitting on the couch on the other side of Sophie was special in some very important way. Like an old soul.

Sophie certainly liked and trusted him. In all honesty, Connie couldn’t remember Sophie ever warming up this quickly to a man. But right now she was leaning against his side, and he had an arm around her shoulders, as if she belonged there.

Connie’s throat tightened, and she had to blink back burning tears. She hoped nobody noticed.

But Julia did notice. Sitting in her wheelchair, inches away from Connie, she reached out and squeezed her daughter’s hand. “It’ll be okay,” she murmured. “I promise you, Connie. It’s going to be okay.”

Looking at her daughter and the stranger who had come into their lives only a week ago, Connie wondered, though.

Thanks to two strangers, their lives had changed dramatically. Maybe things would be okay, but they would certainly never be the same again.

And maybe, just maybe, she wanted something more than “okay” for her life.

She caught herself, appalled by her own greediness. For now, the only thing that mattered was protecting Sophie. Only a fool would ask for more. In that snug little living room, a haven against the storm without, Connie gave thanks for the moment. This moment.

Sophie wanted to stay up late and watch another movie.

“We have church in the morning,” Connie reminded her.

Something odd passed over Sophie’s face, then fled so quickly that Connie doubted she’d seen anything.

“How come I never get to stay up late,” Sophie muttered as she started up the stairs.

In that instant, blessed normalcy returned and Connie laughed with genuine ease for the first time in days.

“Cuz you’re seven, kiddo,” she replied.

“That’s your answer to everything.”

Not everything, Connie thought as she followed her daughter up the stairs. Not everything.

Life should only be so easy.

Chapter 18

The storm died sometime during the night. Connie slept restlessly, never imagining her bed could have felt so empty. But Ethan remained downstairs.

Probably having second thoughts. Every time she awoke during the night, she wished he was beside her, and every time, she reminded herself that he had plenty of reasons not to pursue matters any further. At least as many reasons as she had.

Then she would roll over and fall into a restless dream that never quite became a nightmare, but always seemed to feature something dangerous lurking just out of sight.

Finally, when the first light of dawn peeped beneath the curtains, she climbed out of bed, dressed in warm jeans, a sweatshirt and socks, and crept as quietly as possible downstairs to the kitchen. She forced herself not to glance in the direction of the living room to see if Ethan was still sleeping.

In the kitchen, she started the coffee. It was way too early to start breakfast for the family, so she popped a slice of bread into the toaster and brought out some blueberry jam. After a night of tossing and turning, her stomach felt as if someone had filled it with acid.

Just as the coffee started to perk, Ethan appeared. He wore jeans and nothing else, causing her heart to skitter a bit at the sight of his broad, smooth chest. He was a beautiful man, she thought. She wished she could see the face behind the beard.

Then she noticed the scars. How had she missed them before? She must have been too transported when they made love to notice the multitude of white scars, some small and thin, a few larger and longer, that marked one side of his torso.

“Morning,” he said. He saw where she was looking and asked, “Should I get a shirt?”

“No. No! It’s just that... I guess it was really bad.”

“I don’t remember much of it. A blessing.”

“I’m glad you’re alive,” she told him, meaning it as much as anything she’d ever in her life said.

“Me, too.” He gave her a crooked smile. “About time I was able to say that. Sorry I fell asleep.”

“It’s not like you were on guard duty,” she reminded him. “And you have to sleep sometimes. Besides, the house is locked, and one of us would have heard if someone tried to get in.”

“Very true.”

“Have a seat. I’m making toast. Would you like some?”

“Just some coffee when it’s ready, thanks. I haven’t been up long enough to feel hungry. You look exhausted.”

She shrugged and pulled her slice of toast from the toaster. “I had a restless night. One of those where you feel like you keep waking up, but you almost never wake up enough to actually do anything about it. You know, like turn on a light and read or something. In and out like a swinging door all night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It happens. In a strange way, it almost felt like when I was in the hospital.” She sat at the table and began spreading jam on her toast. “When they had me drugged. I wasn’t really sleeping, I had the oddest dreams, and I kept waking up but couldn’t really wake up. Weird.”

“Yeah. Been there.”

She laughed quietly. “Can’t blame the drugs this time. Maybe too much coffee, but not drugs.”

He grinned. “Leading the clean life, eh?”

“Oh, yeah. I donate blood as often as I can, and when I go in, they have these forms. Same questions every time. I tease them that I’ve led a very dull life. Last time the nurse asked me if I’d ever received money for sex, I said, ‘I wish.’ I thought she was never going to stop laughing.”

His smile broadened.

“But you know,” she added more thoughtfully, “I find there are lots of questions I answer negatively that I ought to be able to answer affirmatively.”

“Such as?”

“‘Have you been out of the country in the last three years?’ Heck, I haven’t even taken a real vacation locally. So I go in and answer the questions and start thinking about taking a cruise, or visiting another country, or...”

“You’ll do it someday.”

She let go of her wistfulness and smiled. “Yeah, I will. Someday.”

“I can’t donate blood at all anymore. Been overseas too often and too much.”

“That’s okay. I think you’ve given enough, anyway.”

He shook his head. “Wrong way to look at it.”

“You think so?”

“You can never give enough.”

As she considered his words, she nodded. “You’re right. There’s always a need to be met somewhere.”

“Maybe I will have that toast,” he said. When she started to rise, he waved her back. “I can make it for myself. You just rest.”

“Bread’s in the bread box. If you want butter...”

“I know.” He smiled. “The refrigerator.”

She laughed then. “Something about being a mother changes you forever. You start assuming that people need explanations for the simplest stuff.”

“Looking after others is never a bad habit.”

His words warmed her, and she sipped her coffee, savoring its richness, trying not to stare at the scars on his back. There were probably more she had missed, and somehow she felt embarrassed not to have noticed them. Even in the throes of their incredible lovemaking.

He popped a couple of slices of bread in the toaster, said, “Be right back,” and disappeared from the kitchen. He returned before the toast was ready, wearing a sweatshirt of his own.

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