The Soldier's Seduction

“Medication doesn’t help with this particular strain. She needs rest and plenty of fluids. Then light meals for a few days. After that she needs to build up her strength. From what she was saying, she rarely eats more than one meal a day and even then it’s not well balanced.” Leon gave Bryce a sidelong glance. “Is money a problem?”

“It shouldn’t be. We pay our drivers well.” Bryce heard the defensive note in his voice and was annoyed. He had no need to uphold the company’s reputation.

Leon nodded. “Even so, if she had money trouble before she got here, her debts might eat up all her income.”

It was exactly what Bryce had been thinking. He withdrew a roll of cash from the pocket of his jeans. “Can you go to the store, get some provisions and bring them back here?”

Leon raised a brow. “People don’t generally trust me with their money.”

“I know it won’t end up behind the bar of...” Bryce paused. “Is there anywhere in town still serving you?”

Leon pretended to give it some thought before shaking his head. “Bartenders don’t have much faith in the word of a recovering alcoholic. And I find the bigger the distance I put between myself and any bar, the better it is for everyone concerned.”

The words might have been frivolous, but the look in his friend’s eyes was anguished. “I trust you to come back.” Bryce handed him the cash.

Leon grinned. “Damn. Now you’ve guilt-tripped me into it.” He made his way to the door, turning back with a slight frown. “I asked Steffi about her eyes. She said her vision is fine and her only problem is light sensitivity.”

“Her eyes?” Bryce tried to remember if he’d ever really seen Steffi’s eyes. He didn’t think he had. They were always hidden behind those tinted glasses she wore.

“Yes, it’s a condition called coloboma. It causes an irregularly shaped iris. In Steffi’s case, it means she has very striking-looking eyes, but I don’t think there is anything for you to worry about as her employer. She told me she doesn’t have any of the other complications that can be associated with the condition. She’s certainly safe to drive, and she has insurance that covers her condition.”

Bryce had no idea what Leon was talking about. He was worried about Steffi, but his concerns had nothing to do with her eyesight.

“I’ll be here when you bring the groceries back. I’m staying with her tonight.”

Chapter 2 (#u4aa186bc-28f6-5553-bed8-42ac5f27d921)

As Steffi came slowly awake, she was conscious of two unexpected things. One was a sense of well-being, something she hadn’t felt for the last three long, fraught months. The second was the low murmur of the TV in the corner of the room. When she turned her head, she realized that Bryce was seated in a chair at the side of her bed. His head was turned away from her as he watched the screen. She took a moment to study his strong profile in the flickering light.

When she had arrived in Stillwater, her whole focus had been on survival. Finding somewhere to live had been her first priority. An undemanding job had been next. When she had been hired by Vincente, he had introduced her to his brother, her new boss. With everything that was going on in her life, the last thing Steffi had expected was to be blown away by a man. But that was what had happened the first time she had set eyes on Bryce Delaney. And the impact hadn’t gone away. It hit her every time she looked at him.

With his dark, wavy hair and deep-set brown eyes he was a striking man. High cheekbones, an aristocratic nose and a perfectly proportioned mouth, with slightly full lips, would have made him stand out in any crowd. Add in a muscular, athletic body, and Bryce Delaney came as close to the ideal image of masculine perfection as it was possible to get.

But it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen a good-looking man before. She had been around plenty of them day to day and never once experienced the sort of fizz of electricity Bryce Delaney induced in her. And to feel this now? Shouldn’t she be immune to anything but the way her life had recently been turned upside down in the most destructive way imaginable?

Bryce’s presence explained the noise from the TV. The feeling of well-being? She had no idea where that was coming from. All she knew was she felt safe. Which was ridiculous. She wasn’t safe and it would be madness to try to fool herself. If she allowed herself to slip into a mind-set where she stopped being watchful, she would make a mistake. She had been scrupulously careful; she wasn’t about to throw it away now just because, for some reason, she’d managed to snatch a few hours’ sleep. And that was another thing. After three months of insomnia, how come she was suddenly able to slumber peacefully?

Her thoughts caused her to stir restlessly. The movement brought Bryce out of his chair and to her side in an instant.

“Hey.” He switched on the lamp. “Let me get you a drink of water.”

Steffi managed to shuffle into a sitting position so she could accept the glass from him. It wasn’t dignified, but from the moment he had found her sprawled on the floor her self-respect had taken a nosedive. “Why are you still here?”

“Because you need someone to take care of you.”

Instead of firing up with anger at his high-handedness, Steffi felt sharp, unaccustomed tears sting her eyelids. Bryce couldn’t know what he did to her with those words. He had no idea what the last few months had been like. For the first time in forever, she had no razor-edged comeback. Everything slipped away. The role she played, the barriers she put up, they were all gone as she gazed up at him.

“Say something quick, Steffi, or I’ll think you’re dying.” There was a trace of amusement in Bryce’s voice.

“Go to hell.” The words had no bite and she sank back onto the pillows.

“That’s more like it.” He took the glass of water from her, scanning her face. She saw his eyes widen.

Damn. She was used to that look. It was the reaction she got whenever people first saw her eyes. Her unusual, beautiful eyes. In the early days, they had been her passport to success. Now they might just be her downfall.

“Is there something wrong?” She might as well call him on it.

Bryce collected himself with obvious difficulty. “No. Not unless you count the fact that Leon thinks you need to take better care of yourself.”

Steffi hunched a shoulder. “He had no right to tell you that.”

“He was concerned about you. I’m concerned about you.”

She watched his face. She preferred him snapping and snarling. In this mood, he was too breathtaking. And Steffi lived in a world where breathtaking men were commonplace. Used to live, she reminded herself. Those days are gone. Forever? I guess so...unless I can bring this nightmare to end. She had come to Stillwater with that aim in mind, but her quarry had remained stubbornly elusive. The man she had come here to confront seemed determined to stay away, although she didn’t flatter herself that her presence in Stillwater had anything to do with his absence. But, until she could meet him face-to-face, she had to avoid being found by his thugs. If they got to her, she was unsure whether their instructions would be to kill her or take her to their boss. Steffi wasn’t taking any chances. She had come here for answers, even if getting them meant putting herself in danger.

“I thought you stopped by here to fire me.”

His expression told her she’d hit a nerve. “That was the plan, but then I found out why you didn’t show up yesterday.”

“Yesterday? What time is it?” Steffi turned her head to look at the clock. “Seriously, Bryce, haven’t you got better places to be at two a.m.?”

She blushed slightly at the implication of her own words. Even in the short time she’d been in Stillwater, she’d picked up on Bryce Delaney’s reputation. He slept around. A different date, if not every night, at least every few days. The man was a walking shot of testosterone and it seemed the ladies of West County were only too happy to indulge his need to be the local stud.

His lips quirked into a smile that told her he understood the reason for her blush. “As it happens, I don’t.” He frowned slightly, changing the subject abruptly. “When I broke in here, you were afraid of something. You said, ‘Don’t let them get me.’ What was that about?”

She shrugged, hoping the gloom disguised her blush. “Did I? Maybe I was delirious or something.”

It was a lame explanation, but, although he gave her a searching look, he didn’t push it. “Go back to sleep, Steffi. I’ll be here if you need me.”

She should probably challenge that. Get mad. Throw him out. But she was still so tired and, even if she only admitted it to herself, having him here was comforting. Snuggling back down into the bedclothes, she closed her eyes and listened to the voice of the newsreader. A train had derailed, causing major problems. There was an ongoing debate about the minimum wage. Steffi was just feeling sleep tug at the edge of her consciousness again when the focus switched from local issues to celebrity news.

“Police still have no further information on the whereabouts of actress Anya Moretti. Moretti, who has been missing since the murder of her boyfriend Greg Spence and an unknown woman three months ago, is best known for her roles in films such as...”

“Turn it off, please.” Steffi spoke more sharply than she had intended.

Bryce looked up in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was bothering you.” He flicked a switch on the remote control and the room was plunged into darkness and silence.

* * *

Sleep didn’t come easily to Bryce. When it did arrive it was brief and filled with nightmares from which he woke sweating, having relived every minute of the living hell of that roadside explosion. Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he never chased slumber, why he tended to find other—more interesting—things to do during the hours of darkness. Sleeping in the uncomfortable upright chair in Steffi’s bedroom was damn near impossible. After shifting his long limbs into various positions, Bryce gave up. He didn’t want to switch on the lamp and disturb Steffi, but he did want to check on her before he left the room.

Stepping into the narrow hall, he flicked on the light. Returning to the bedroom, he gazed down at her in the gloomy half-light flowing through the open door. She was sleeping peacefully, her short, chestnut curls clustered like a halo around her head. In sleep her features seemed less sharp than in wakefulness. Steffi was one of those women who would never be able to lay claim to classical beauty. Taking each feature in turn, there was a flaw. Her nose definitely turned up at the end in a defiant, go-to-hell gesture. Her mouth was way too wide for prettiness and the gap between her front teeth caught the eye almost as much as her full lips. Then there was that stubborn, determined chin. The one she tilted upward at him during their frequent arguments. Yet when you put those features together, they made an unforgettable face. It wasn’t beautiful. It was mesmerizing.

Because she kept them hidden behind her dark glasses, Bryce hadn’t seen Steffi’s eyes until just now. They had taken his breath away. The golden-brown irises had elongated downward notches that made them look like cat’s eyes. He had never seen eyes like them. What had Leon called the condition that caused it? Coloboma, that was it.

She was an enigma. Bryce didn’t care what she said; Steffi had been scared out of her wits when he broke in here, trying to hide under the bed and covering her head with her hands. His first guess had been that she was running from a bad relationship. Don’t let them get me? Them. Plural. That made it sound less like she was running from a vengeful ex. One thing was for sure; she clearly wasn’t ready to confide in him. Another thing was certain; Bryce wasn’t leaving her until he knew she was both well and safe. To hell with what his brothers might say about his knack for collecting waifs and strays. This was Steffi. She was different. He didn’t know why; it was just a conviction, solid and unshakable, sitting in the center of his chest.

Treading softly back out of the room, Bryce made his way into the den. There was a TV in here as well, but the walls were so thin he was afraid of waking Steffi. With a sigh of resignation, he picked up one of her celebrity magazines and began to flick through it. After twenty minutes of thumbing through the magazines and newspapers, he came to the conclusion that Steffi had a bit of an obsession with the very story she had interrupted when she asked him to turn the TV off so she could go to sleep. Either that, or it was a coincidence that all these journals she had stockpiled contained articles about the disappearance of Anya Moretti.