Mending Hearts (The American Soldier Collection 11)

Everyone greeted her hello, and she was grateful she had worn the skirt and heeled boots to work today. At least she was dressed for the dance hall club scene. Elizabeth handed her a drink, and from there on out, she knew she was not going to be heading home soon.

* * * *

He watched her from afar. Not quite as conservative or beautiful as his Alana, but she would do. He just needed to take off the edge. He was becoming desperate, and the other day in the store he’d nearly lost it. To see Alana with those two men, soldiers, too, just like he was, really angered him. They wanted her. They wanted to fuck her together and make her theirs, but he wasn’t going to let that happen.

I saw her first. She’s mine.

He clenched his fists then unclenched them, feeling his blood pressure rising and his heart racing with fury. He needed to calm down. Everything had to be perfect when he finally took Alana. He needed practice. Practice arousing a woman, making her beg for mercy then beg for his cock. He couldn’t do that right for Alana if he didn’t practice first. The other woman hadn’t worked out as he planned.

She’d fought him. Called him names and mocked him as if he weren’t good enough for her. She suffered the consequences of defying him. Just like this one would if she reacted the same way. No, he needed to do this differently. Gain her trust. Make her like him and accept his advances then begin the training.

He took a deep breath and looked around him. To ensure he wasn’t identified if things went awry like with the other woman, he should make this quick. As quick as he could without gaining attention.

“Excuse me.”

She turned around and smiled. Soft, sweet, brown eyes not green, but she would do.

“Yes?”

“I saw you from across the room. You looked familiar to me. Are you from Salvation?” he asked her.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before, but yes, I work around here.”

“Maybe that’s where I’ve seen you. I would never forget a pretty face. Do you work for the newspaper?”

She blushed and shyly looked away. He knew he had big muscles, was pretty attractive, as he got looks often. But he played off shy too.

“No, I work at the salon.”

“Well, I don’t think that’s where I’ve seen you before.”

“Sarah, we’re going to dance. Are you coming?” a friend of hers asked, interrupting the conversation. He shot her a look then recovered quickly and winked.

“I’m sorry to bother you. I’ll let you get back to your friends,” he said in a sad voice. She placed her hand on his arm, and he bit his cheek. No woman touched him or showed control over him.

“Stay. I’m not in the mood for dancing,” she said, and her friend shrugged and walked away.

He spent the rest of the time courting her. He gave her small compliments and made up a story about himself and where he came from. The more they engaged in conversation, the more he found her to be similar to Alana, and he knew that she would do just fine.

As the night went on, he made his move as she said she was tired and wanted to head home. He offered to walk her out, and she looked for her friends, but none of them seemed to be around.

He offered her assistance.

The moment he got to her car, he knew this was meant to be. His van was only two vehicles away, and he had knocked out the parking lot light above on his way in earlier. It seemed that fate was on his side after all.

“God, it’s so dark out here. I think one of the lights is out,” she said.

“Well then, I’m glad I walked you out. That could be dangerous.”

He placed his hand at her lower back and looked around as she searched for her keys. She gave him a smile, and then he reached into his pocket for the small syringe.

“Well, it was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too. The night is young. Maybe we could continue the good time we’ve been having?” he asked.

“I don’t think I have the energy. Not tonight. But maybe I’ll see you here again? Maybe this Friday? We could meet,” she suggested.

He had her. But he couldn’t wait a week. He needed training.