Flame's Dawn Read Online Free Page B

and smoothed her skirt down. Tucking her into his arms again, he rested his chin on her silky hair and fought back his shame.
    Unworthy as a man? Laughable.
    He was no man. He was an ungodly scourge upon this world.
    Barnaby, the wretched creation of Satan, was the thing nightmares were made of.
    • • •
    It had taken all of Jane’s focus to keep from crying out at the delicious release in Barnaby’s arms. She had no idea that he had such strength, but when he held her as he drove deep inside, she craved more of the power in his arms, in his muscled frame, in his protective spirit.
    He pulled away to readjust his clothing, and she did the same. In an unconscious move, she caught herself leaning toward him. He was her anchor in a sea of insanity that swirled around her.
    And now, he drifted away from her. Fitting, since The 5 th Dimension belted out “Up, Up and Away” on the radio, in all their flute-punctuated oblivion to the ridiculous circumstances here in the altered reality of Vietnam.
    Barnaby? Oh, he remained physically close, even dropping light kisses on her forehead once more and draping his arms around her. But the intimacy she longed for? Gone, like a curtain had fallen between them.
    As she should have expected. Men in the service here didn’t want a forever kind of girl, and tonight’s bad decision proved that point.
    If only her soul didn’t crave more of him.
    If only he didn’t seem to fit her in every way possible.
    Had to be the stress of war. No woman would be fool enough to believe that forever could come from stolen moments in a closet, hiding from the enemy.
    So just like that, while she reeled from the amazing sex, Jane shoved the pieces of herself back together again.
    Footsteps traveled down the hall outside the office, and she tensed. Barnaby put a hand up on the metal shelf, shielding her with his big frame.
    She tugged at her wrinkled clothing.
    The door flew open, and light speared her eyes.
    “Larson, are you in there?”
    Peeking out from under Barnaby’s arm, she spied the general’s furrowed brow. The air left her in a big whoosh, and she sagged against the wall.
    “Yes sir.”
    “What ... are you doing in there?” he asked.
    “Hiding from Charlie, sir,” Barnaby growled, still staring at Jane. With the closet light streaming in from above and behind him, she still couldn’t make out his expression.
    After a full five seconds, he relaxed his rigid posture and held a steady hand out to her. When she took it, Barnaby guided her over the canvas bags and out of the closet. He briefly explained to the general how they had evaded the VC.
    The older man rubbed his jowls. “I’m glad you two are safe. When I didn’t see you in the bunker downstairs, I worried that both of you ...”
    “Barnaby’s quick thinking saved us,” she said, trying to smooth her hair into a semblance of regulation appropriate.
    Chopper blades split the air in the distance. Pops of gunfire outside made her flinch.
    “What happened?” Barnaby asked.
    “VC breached the building. The marines finally flushed the VC out, sealed the breach, and swept the premises, but it wasn’t without casualties.” He grimaced.
    Men died defending the embassy while Jane had enjoyed a quickie with Barnaby. Guilt tasted sour on her tongue.
    The general stared at her above the rims of his glasses, his tired eyes drooping. “You’re out of here, Larson.”
    “Pardon, sir?”
    “You’re leaving on the next transport.” He pointed upward.
    “But I have to—”
    “Intel says these attacks are going to get worse before they get better. Any nonessentials—”
    “Nonessentials?”
    “Okay, not really in your situation, but I refuse to put a woman in the line of fire. The world’s gone mad out there, Larson, and I don’t care how good you are at your job. I will not have your blood on my hands.”
    “Thanks,” she bit out. Nothing like boiling down her value into a way to prevent someone’s feelings of