The Marine Meets His Match

“You could have been a little more approachable.”

His smile widened. “I can be very approachable when the situation warrants it. Like now. How would you like to discuss this further over a cold drink?”

“I wouldn’t like that at all.”

“Why not?”

The sexy Marine clearly wasn’t accustomed to having his invitations turned down, Serena noted. He might have intimidated the entire fifth-grade class, but there was no way he was going to steamroller over her.

True, he’d made Serena’s heart beat faster without even trying and now that he was trying, well…He was good, she’d give him that. The gleam in his brown eyes let her know this was a man used to having his way with women.

She could understand why. He was the kind of man who got noticed. And not just because of the impressive Marine dress blue uniform he was wearing, or the confident way he carried himself. Living as she did so close to Camp Lejeune in North Carolina, she’d seen plenty of Marines.

But this one was different.

He’d gotten under her skin.

At first she’d told herself it was because of the way he’d talked to the kids as if they were recruits in his command. He was definitely a man accustomed to giving orders and having them instantly obeyed.

Serena was definitely a woman who didn’t respond well to being bossed around. She’d experienced enough of that to last her a lifetime.

Maybe she wouldn’t have reacted so strongly were it not for the fact that her goddaughter Becky was in that group he’d just spoken to. And his forceful voice had made the shy Becky almost dive under her chair in the back row. Serena had been standing directly behind her at the time. Only Serena’s soothing hands on the little girl’s trembling shoulders had kept her in her seat.

So Serena had waited out here to confront him, to tell him that kids needed special care.

Instead of agreeing, he’d stuck to his guns.

That figured. How like a man, especially a bossy man.

“You’re not married are you?” he suddenly asked, his gaze sliding to her left hand.

“Absolutely not!”

So the blonde had a thing against marriage. Rad could relate. He was no big fan himself. Despite the fact that his two older brothers had gotten tied down with wives, Rad was in no hurry to surrender his freedom. He was in a hurry to get to know her better, however. “What’s the problem then?”

“There are too many for me possibly to go into them all.” Her voice was tart.

“Pick just a few then.”

“You know the things that work for you as a Marine? Traits like being arrogant and bossy?”

The seductive bookseller was trying to push his buttons. He wondered why. “We prefer to think of those traits as confidence and leadership.”

“These are not traits I respond well to.”

“And why is that?”

His direct gaze and calm question flustered her. “I’ve got my reasons, okay?”

“Okay. When you know me better, you can tell me what they are.”

She blinked at him, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her creamy skin. Not that he was a guy who normally noticed a female’s eyelashes, but she had such great eyes. And legs. And breasts.

The sizzle of attraction was strong. Stronger than he’d felt in a very long time. And it wasn’t one-sided. Despite her words, the lightning flashes of chemistry were definitely reciprocated.

Like now, when her gaze got all tangled-up with his. The male-female message was there. The awareness, the temptation. The sparks, the struggle. She licked her lush lips before finally looking away.

“I’m not going to get to know you better, Captain.” Her voice was breathless and abrupt but emphatic. “Goodbye.”

He watched her hurry away, appreciating the sway of her hips. He remembered a song that had been big a while back, something about a Lady in Red. She was like poetry in motion, the way she moved. Southern women had a natural way of doing that, making a man take notice. But he hadn’t detected a local accent when she’d spoken.

Still, if she’d spoken at this school today, she had to live nearby. The tote bag she carried had an open-book design and a bookstore name on it: The Reader’s Place—Home Of Novel Ideas.

He had plenty of novel ideas about her. All of them steamy. He had to get back to the base now, but tomorrow, he’d make a stop at her bookstore. Because Rad was not a man who gave up easily. He wasn’t a man who gave up at all.

He was still thinking about Serena when he returned to Camp Lejeune. Which was why he didn’t see Heidi Burns until it was too late.

The general’s eighteen-year-old daughter was a beauty with her dark hair and big blue eyes. She was also a pain in the keister.

The general’s daughter had been making Rad’s life difficult for several weeks now. Which was how he’d ended up with that school assignment. Not his usual type of mission.

When Rad hadn’t accepted Heidi’s invitation to go out with her, she’d warned him that she’d go to her daddy to get what she wanted if necessary. He hadn’t believed her. Then his CO had given him the school assignment, saying the “request” had come from the general himself.

Rad knew he had to do something about this situation. Heidi had decided she wanted him. Not that he’d ever given her one iota of attention. Well, okay, so he’d smiled at her when he’d first met her. But that was it. She claimed to have fallen in love with him on sight.

Staying out of her way was difficult, because she followed him like a lost puppy. She was daddy’s princess who could do no wrong. Spoiled all her life, she’d always gotten what she wanted.

Now she wanted Rad.

“There you are.” She grasped his arm. “You, like, have to join Daddy and me for dinner tonight.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Her expression warned him that he’d better have a good reason and that no reason would be good enough.

There was only one thing he could think of saying. “My fiancée wouldn’t approve.”

That stopped Heidi in her tracks. For barely a second. Then she laughed. “You don’t have a fiancée.”

“Yes, I do.”

Heidi was no fool. She clearly suspected something was up. “Then why haven’t you mentioned her before?”

“We just recently got engaged.”

“What’s her name?” She shot the question at him with machine-gun speed, rattling him with her dogged persistence.

“Serena. Serena Anderson.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. “She’s a bookseller.”