Diana Palmer Collected 1-6: Soldier of Fortune / Tender Stranger / Enamored / Mystery Man / Rawhide and Lace / Unlikely Lover

He eased the gown off her shoulders and she felt it suddenly drop to the floor. She felt the whisper of the breeze against her bare skin. J.D.’s eyes blazed as he looked down at her body. And then he drew her to him, and she felt herself go rigid all over.

“I won’t live long enough to forget how this feels,” he whispered. “Now kiss me, one last time.”

And she did, with all her heart and soul, without a single inhibition. And her arms held him and they fused together in a silence gone mad with tangible hunger.

He groaned as if he were being tortured and his arms hurt her, his lips hurt, his tongue thrust into her mouth in a deliciously fierce invasion. Finally he drew back, shaking, and put her from him.

He bent, picked up the nightgown, and gently drew it back on her without a single word.

“Worth dying for,” he whispered, studying her luminous eyes, her swollen mouth, her flushed cheeks. “God, you’re sweet.”

“Jacob, don’t go out there,” she pleaded.

“I have to.” He bent and retrieved his clothes from a chair where he must have flung them the night before and began to dress.

“But you’re a lawyer,” she persisted. She wiped away a tear and sat down heavily on the side of the bed, her green eyes wide and frightened. “You aren’t a soldier.”

“But I was, honey,” he said as he tugged on his jungle fatigues. He turned, buttoning the shirt, his eyes dark and mysterious as they searched hers. “You still haven’t worked it out, have you, Gabby?”

“Worked what out?”

He tucked in the shirt. “I served only three years in the Special Forces. I joined when I was eighteen.”

She was trying to do mathematics with a mind still drugged by pleasure. “You were twenty-one when you got out.”

“Yes. But I didn’t start studying for my degree until I was twenty-five.”

She stared at him, uncomprehending. “That means…you did something else with those four years.”

“Yes.” He met her searching gaze levelly. “I was a mercenary. I led First Shirt and the others for the better part of four years, in some of the nastiest little uprisings in the civilized world.”

Chapter Five (#ulink_712fb24f-0bd6-59c3-9723-8700723ed31e)

Gabby stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. J.D., a mercenary? One of those men who hired out to fight wars, who risked their lives daily?

“Are you shocked, honey?” he asked, his eyes searching, his stance challenging.

Her lips parted. “I never realized…you said you served with them, but I never realized…I thought you meant in the Special Forces.”

“I was going to let you go on thinking that, too,” he said. “But maybe it’s better to get it out into the open.”

Her eyes went over him, looking for scars, for changes. She’d noticed the tiny white lines on his stomach and chest, partially hidden by the hair, but until now it hadn’t dawned on her what they were.

“You have scars,” she began hesitantly.

“A hell of a lot of them,” he said. “Do you want to hear it all, Gabby?”

“Yes.”

He rammed his hands into his pockets and went to stare out of the window, as if it was easier to talk when he didn’t look at her. “I stayed in the service because it meant I made enough to keep Martina in a boarding school. We had no relatives, you see. Mama was gone.” He shrugged. “But when I got out of the service, I couldn’t get a job that paid enough to get Martina through school. I wasn’t trained for much except combat.” He fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette and lit it. “I thought I’d given this up until the kidnapping,” he said absently, holding the cigarette to his lips. He drew in and blew out a cloud of smoke. “Well, Shirt was recruiting, and he knew I was in trouble. He offered me a job. I took it. I spent the next four years globe-trotting with my crossbow and a gun. I made money, and I put it in foreign banks. But I got too confident and too careless, and I got shot to pieces.”

She held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

“I spent weeks in a hospital. My lungs collapsed from shrapnel and they thought I was going to die. But I lived through it. When I got out, I realized that there was only one way I could go from there, and it was straight downhill. So I told Shirt I was quitting.” He laughed mirthlessly. “But first I went on one last mission, just to prove to myself that I still had the guts. And I came out of that one without a scratch. I came back to the States afterward. I figured that someday the guys I’d served with might need a lawyer, and I needed a profession. So I got a job and went to school at night.”

“You aren’t a fugitive?” she asked.

“No. In one or two countries, perhaps, if I were recognized. But not in the States.” He turned, studying her through narrowed eyes. “That’s why I guard my past so meticulously, Gabby. And it’s why I don’t like reporters. I’m not ashamed of the old life. But I don’t like being reminded of it too often.”

“Do you miss it?” she asked, probing gently.

He sighed. “Yes. Part of me does. Life is so precious when you’ve touched death, Gabby. You become alive in a way I can’t explain to you. Life is pretty damned tame afterward.”

“This is why you came after Martina, isn’t it, Jacob?” she asked, fitting the puzzle pieces together. “Because you knew that you and the group could succeed where a larger group might fail.”

“We’re the only chance she has, honey,” he said quietly. “In Italy I might have stayed out of it. But down here…the government has its hands full trying to keep up with crime and trafficking, not to mention corruption. Besides all that, damn it, she’s my sister. She’s all I’ve got.”

That hurt. He might want Gabby, but he didn’t care about her. He’d made that perfectly clear. She lowered her eyes to the skirt of her nightgown.

“Yes, I can understand that,” she said in a subdued tone.

“I had a long talk with Laremos last night,” he said. “I told him that if he touched you, I’d kill him. You’ll be safe here.”

Her head jerked up. “I’m not afraid for myself,” she said. “Only for you and the others.”

“We’re a good team,” he said. “The way you and I have been for the past two years. Do you want to quit now, Gabby? Are you disillusioned?”

He sounded coldly sarcastic. He lifted the cigarette to his lips with a short laugh.

“Are you firing me?” she threw back, angered by the unexpected and unwarranted attack.

“No. If you leave, it’s up to you.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

He crushed out his cigarette in an ashtray. “You’d better get dressed. I want to go over those codes with you one last time before we get under way.”

“Yes, of course,” she murmured. She got up and went to find her clothes. Before she could turn around, the door opened and he’d gone out.

She got dressed and sat down on the bed and cried. To go from dream to nightmare in such a short space of time was anguish. And the worst thing was that she didn’t even know what had happened.

It didn’t matter to her that he’d been a soldier of fortune, she thought miserably. How could it, when she loved him?

Loved him. Her eyes pictured him, dark and solemn and strong, and a surge of warmth swept over her like fire. She would have followed him through that jungle on her knees without a single complaint. But despite his obvious hunger for her, he didn’t want anything emotional between them. He’d pretty well spelled that out for her. Martina was the only person on earth he loved or would love, and he’d said so. What he felt for Gabby was purely physical, something he couldn’t help. She was a virgin and she excited him. He wanted her, but that was all. And he could have had her that morning, without a protest on her part. He must have known it, too. But he hadn’t taken her, because he was strong. He didn’t want her getting involved with him, so he’d told her all about his past.

That was the final blow, that he’d shared his past with her only to put a wall between them. She hid her face in her hands and tried to hold back the tears. How was she going to manage to work with him day after day now, when he couldn’t help but see how she felt?

But that wasn’t the worst of it. He was going out into the jungle after kidnappers who could kill him. Her heart froze in her chest. She couldn’t stop him. All she could do was sit there and pray for him.