Page 17 of Saved By the Marines (Soldiers Of Misfortune)

His furious shouting followed me down the hallway. I was shutting my bedroom door as I heard another crash open downstairs. My father’s yelling had drawn our protectors back into the house. They probably thought he was being attacked, but I didn’t care to help set the record straight. I needed space and time alone. I wasn’t crying because my father was an asshole. Unfortunately, I was all too used to him acting that way.

It’d just been too much stress in one compacted timeframe. The lack of control over my life, the dangerous situation he’d put us in, the feelings growing inside of me for not one, but three men. It was all too much.

I laid down on my bed and cried. It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes before a knock sounded on my door. Wiping my tears away from my face, I called out, “Go away.”

The door opened and I glared over my shoulder, only to be met with Wolfe’s steadfast stare. Sighing, I flopped back down, burying my face in the comforter. “I’m fine,” I said, words muffled.

The bed dipped next to me, but I’d never heard him take a step. How did he move so quietly?

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing.”

A warm hand came to rest on my back and I sucked in a breath. Feeling his rough fingers on my skin had electric sparks arcing between us. I wondered if he felt it too.

“Nothing doesn’t send you running to your room, crying.”

“Not crying,” I lied.

“Sure. But what happened?”

Rolling over onto my side, I pillowed my head on my arm and stared at him. His hand had slid as I’d moved and now it was anchored on my hip. He didn’t lift it, just left it there to torment me.

“It’s stupid.”

“It obviously isn’t.”

I didn’t want him to think I was the brat Jasper had nicknamed me. When his chuckle sounded inside the quiet room I realized I’d said that out loud. My cheeks heated.

“Jas is an asshole,” he said with a shrug. “Love him like a brother, but he’s a dick,” he added when my lips lifted into a smile.

“It was something Dad said,” I told him. The smile slipped off my face. “It was nothing. Stupid.” He looked like he was about to argue, so I continued, “I hate being here. Hate this life.”

He nodded as though he understood. “You don’t ever look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

That surprised me. I know for a fact I faked it well or I’d never hear the end of it from the great Senator Michaels. That meant Wolfe had been paying attention—close attention. The thought warmed me even as he pulled his hand back, as though he just realized it was still on my body.

“Why do you do it, then?”

I sighed inwardly. How could I explain to him—a man who’d probably never feared anything a day in his life—that I was scared? Scared of my father. Scared of failing in what I’ve chosen to do with my life and that this was always a back-up. Scared of standing up for myself and disappointing my father, even though most of the time I hated him. Scared to face that contradiction.

There was no way to make it sound like anything other than ‘I’m a coward’, so I said nothing. Maybe that was it, maybe I was a coward. I stood up, facing away from him. Glancing at him over my shoulder, I gave him a shy smile. “Could you help me with my dress?”

“Help you…” His eyes trailed down my back to where it dipped low enough that a strong wind would bare my butt to the world. The fact that the material clung so tightly over my ass—well, and the double sided tape Carlos had provided—were the only reason I hadn’t had a wardrobe malfunction tonight.

I’d worn the dress to piss off my father—and maybe to catch the eyes of some sexy military men. Okay, primarily to catch the attention of three men, but pissing off Dad was a bonus. Whether I’d known it or not, coming to Colombia was the start of my rebellion. I’d been acting in ways not normal to me. Being attracted to three men at once certainly wasn’t like me. And trying to catch their eyes? It was thrilling and sexy even though I knew something like that wasn’t possible. The best I could hope would be to end up dating one of them. Not that they were interested in me that way. That didn’t mean I couldn’t have a little fun.

My father never would have expected it from me, thus his words from earlier. With them ringing in my ears, I decided to push my luck and see if I could have that little fling Amy had mentioned. It wasn’t like I had a boyfriend anymore.

The baking book nerd was throwing caution to the wind. Fuck my father. Fuck Ted. Fuck all the responsibilities that were always heaped on my shoulders. I was going to play with fire. And I was going to enjoy it.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I gave him what—I hoped—passed for a seductive smile. “There’s a hidden zipper. It’s hard for me to reach it.” No it wasn’t. I’d gotten dressed alone, but I wasn’t going to tell Wolfe that.

He stood up and stared down at my ass. I arched my hips ever so slightly, pushing my ass out. It took everything within me—and biting down hard on my tongue—to keep from taking the request back. Nerves had my pulse racing. I watched his long tanned fingers move forward and find the metal clasp. He tried to just tug the zipper down, but the material wouldn’t cooperate. His muttered curse made me smile. He wiped the expression off my face quickly when his other hand came up and palmed my ass.

Theoretically, he was holding the material still so he could pull that pesky zipper down. I didn’t miss the slight squeeze he gave before he let me go. My mouth was dry and my heart was pounding as our gazes clashed.

Turning, I stepped closer to him, my hands holding the sagging material up to my breasts. The double sided tape didn’t have a chance against the weight of the dress. If I let go, it would break away and allow the dress to pool at my feet.

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