Книга - Stranded With The Sergeant

Stranded With The Sergeant
Cathie Linz











“I’d love to show you how a real Marine woos a woman.”


Joe leaned closer. “After I take care of my duty and give the Sergeant Major’s kid her tour. So which one is she? The one with the pigtails?”

“No.” Prudence was silent.

“Then she must be the one with the glasses.”

“Wrong again,” Prudence said coolly.

Joe frowned. “But he told me his daughter’s class was here for a tour.”

“His daughter’s class is here for a tour.”

Joe had a bad feeling. “You mean…?”

“That I’m the Sergeant Major’s daughter?” the sexy teacher said with a smug smile. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”




Praise for Cathie’s previous title


Daddy in Dress Blues (SR #1470)

“Funny, sweet—I couldn’t put it down! One of Cathie Linz’s best books. Imagine a hard-core Marine trying to raise a three-year-old daughter by the Marine Corps training manual! Doesn’t that just about say it all?”

—New York Times bestselling author

Susan Elizabeth Phillips


Dear Reader,

I’m dreaming of summer vacations—of sitting by the beach, dangling my feet in a lake, walking on a mountain or curling up in a hammock. And in each vision, I have a Silhouette Romance novel, and I’m happy. Why don’t you grab a couple and join me? And in each book take a look at our Silhouette Makes You a Star contest!

We’ve got some terrific titles in store for you this month. Longtime favorite author Cathie Linz has developed some delightful stories with U.S. Marine heroes and Stranded with the Sergeant is appealing and fun. Cara Colter has the second of her THE WEDDING LEGACY titles for you. The Heiress Takes a Husband features a rich young woman who’s struggling to prove herself—and the handsome attorney who lends a hand.

Arlene James has written over fifty titles for Silhouette Books, and her expertise shows. So Dear to My Heart is a tender, original story of a woman finding happiness again. And Karen Rose Smith—another popular veteran—brings us Doctor in Demand, about a wounded man who’s healed by the love of a woman and her child.

And two newer authors round out the list! Melissa McClone’s His Band of Gold is an emotional realization of the power of love, and Sue Swift debuts in Silhouette Romance with His Baby, Her Heart, in which a woman agrees to fulfill her late sister’s dream of children. It’s an unusual and powerful story that is part of our THE BABY’S SECRET series.

Enjoy these stories, and make time to appreciate yourselves in your hectic lives! Have a wonderful summer.

Happy reading!






Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor




Stranded with the Sergeant

Cathie Linz



















www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For my “editor extraordinaire,” Jennifer Walsh, for loving my books and bragging about me. I hope we can work together on the next 40 books! And to all the readers who’ve bought my last 40 books, this one is for you!




Books by Cathie Linz


Silhouette Romance

One of a Kind Marriage #1032

* (#litres_trial_promo)Daddy in Dress Blues #1470

* (#litres_trial_promo)Stranded with the Sergeant #1534

Silhouette Desire

Change of Heart #408

A Friend in Need #443

As Good as Gold #484

Adam’s Way #519

Smiles #575

Handyman #616

Smooth Sailing #665

Flirting with Trouble #722

Male Ordered Bride #761

Escapades #804

Midnight Ice #846

Bridal Blues #894

A Wife in Time #958

† (#litres_trial_promo)Michael’s Baby #1023

† (#litres_trial_promo)Seducing Hunter #1029

† (#litres_trial_promo)Abbie and the Cowboy #1036

Husband Needed #1098

Silhouette Books

Montana Mavericks

“Baby Wanted”




CATHIE LINZ


left her career in a university law library to become a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romances. She is the recipient of the highly coveted Storyteller of the Year Award given by Romantic Times Magazine and was recently nominated for a Love and Laughter Career Achievement Award for the delightful humor in her books. Cathie enjoys spending time with her family, her two cats, her trusty word processor and her hidden cache of Oreo cookies!


Dear Reader,

I first met Joe Wilder while writing Daddy in Dress Blues (SR #1470), where he was the hero’s best friend. I knew Joe had to have a book of his own—he told me so himself many times. I also knew that Joe had some dark secrets up his sleeve. Since I wanted to know what they were, I sat down to write Joe’s story.

A U.S. Marine like Joe, a hunk who could give Mel Gibson a run for his money, needs a very special heroine. I got her name first. Prudence. Yes, a bad boy like Joe would need a prudent woman, one who wouldn’t melt at his first sexy smile, one who could see past his charm to the tortured soul inside.

Prudence has secrets, too. She knows what it is like to be consumed with guilt, so she wants to help Joe. But help isn’t something a U.S. Marine accepts easily, especially not from his commanding officer’s daughter!

I’ve loved writing about these heroic men who abide by the Marine Corps values of honor, courage and commitment. Come on, admit it—there’s just something special about a man in a U.S. Marine dress blues uniform! I hope you enjoy Joe and Prudence’s story and watch for more stories from me about these men of honor.

I enjoy hearing from my readers, so please visit my Web site at www.comet.net/writers/linz.

All the best,









Contents


Chapter One (#ue0540211-cf56-52ed-ba94-3a35e13d0353)

Chapter Two (#ued24144d-400b-5ef3-acc1-6871b7ddc377)

Chapter Three (#u9f6baa77-7035-51da-b83d-b35e3f36bd89)

Chapter Four (#uc9db08de-4eb3-5e5a-b666-0a311274d5ed)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)




Chapter One


“So, Wilder, I hear you jumped off another bridge this weekend.” Joe Wilder’s commanding officer pinned him with a steely-eyed glare. In his late forties, his military haircut tipped with gray, Sergeant Major Richard Martin had a drill instructor’s voice and a warrior’s demeanor. He reminded Joe of his own father.

“Actually I bungee-jumped, sir,” Joe corrected him with the utmost respect, trying to ignore the way the North Carolina sun bounced off the bright white walls of the Sergeant Major’s office. The glare made his head pound. He’d woken at 0600 hours with the mother of all hangovers. Joe knew he was in bad shape when merely looking at white wall paint made his head hurt. “I was attached to the structure with a cord.”

“I don’t care if you were attached to the structure with superglue,” Sergeant Major Martin growled. “You still jumped off. And I don’t approve. The

United States Marine Corps has spent a lot of time and money on your training, Wilder. I’d hate to see it all wasted with you splattered on a slab of concrete or some rocky riverbed somewhere. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you like jumping out off things that much, you should become a paratrooper.”

“Understood, sir.”

“I certainly hope so, Wilder.” Sergeant Major Martin tapped the folder on his desk impatiently. The sound was amplified tenfold by Joe’s hangover, but he showed no outward sign of his discomfort. A Marine never showed signs of discomfort. Honor, courage, commitment. These were the Marine Corps values. Not discomfort. Not guilt.

“Since you’ve been under my command your off-duty antics have gotten wilder and wilder,” Sergeant Major Martin continued. “Why is that?”

Because the risk-taking made Joe feel alive. That’s why he did it. To get away from the ever-present nightmares that seemed to be eating him up inside, to escape from the pain and the guilt.

Not that he’d ever tell Sergeant Major Martin that. Not that he’d tell anyone that. Everyone thought Joe was just a wild thrill-seeker. Wilder. It wasn’t just his name, it had become his attitude.

Which was fine by him. But apparently not fine by his commanding officer. “Your aforementioned wild behavior stops as of right now,” the older man ordered in a clipped voice.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll be turning over a new leaf. Starting immediately. I’d like you to escort my daughter’s sixth-grade class for a tour of the base here.”

Joe blinked, certain he couldn’t have heard correctly. “Sir?”

“You heard me.”

“I am not that familiar with the base yet, sir,” Joe felt compelled to say. He’d only recently been assigned here to Camp Lejeune in coastal North Carolina after completing an overseas deployment he’d rather not think about. Ever. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to give a tour.”

“I think you’re qualified, Wilder, and that’s all that matters. I did plan on having Sergeant Brown do the honors, but he had to have emergency surgery last night on a ruptured appendix. So you’ll be taking his place.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And after you give them the tour, you’ll be going with them this afternoon on a weekend field trip up into the mountains.”

“A field trip, sir?”

“That’s right, Wilder. Why the look? Surely after your Marine training, not to mention your love of extreme sport activities, you’re not telling me you’re afraid of a bunch of kids?”

“No, sir.” That much was true. Afraid didn’t even come close to the feelings churning in Joe’s gut. Panic would be a much more accurate description.

“Glad to hear it. The class is waiting for you down the hall in conference room 1013. Once you’ve completed the tour, you’ll have one hour to gather the necessary equipment, sleeping bag, etc., that you’ll need for a weekend camping trip. The route is already laid out for you, following the Sunshine Trailhead in the Blue Ridge Mountains. A three- or four-hour drive to the other side of the state. Here.”

Joe willed his hand not to shake as he reached out to take the topographical hiking map.

“My daughter, Prudence, is my little princess, my only child. So I don’t want anything ruining this field trip for her. Do you have any questions, Wilder?”

Thousands of them. Why me? Why now? But he bolted those questions down and instead said, “No, sir.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. Get a move on then. They’re waiting for you, Wilder. Dismissed.”

Kids. Why did it have to be kids? Joe stared at his pale reflection in the men’s bathroom mirror.

It was only one weekend. Surely he could handle one weekend. He’d handled worse things. He’d…survived.

Joe rubbed the ache between his eyes before reaching into his pocket for the two aspirins he’d meant to take before seeing his commanding officer. He felt like a wimp for taking the analgesic, but he needed to dump this headache so that he could think of a way to dump this assignment.

Of course there was no way he’d refuse an order from his commanding officer. He was a Marine through and through. He’d never willingly be derelict in his duties.

What about that day two months ago? a little voice in his head said. If you’d done your duty two months ago and gotten on that helicopter, another man wouldn’t have died in your place.

Gritting his teeth, Joe willed the memories away. He needed to keep his act together here. One step at a time. First he’d locate his commanding officer’s daughter.

The walk down the hallway from the men’s room to the conference room was one of the longest he’d ever taken. To his relief there was another adult in the room. A woman. A good-looking woman. The teacher.

Ignoring all the sixth-graders, he focused his attention on her. Dark brown shoulder-length hair, chocolate-brown eyes, lush mouth, good figure showed off in a pair of well-fitting if conservative khaki pants and white T-shirt. She had a colorful scarf jauntily tied around her neck. She looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties. And she was definitely attractive.

Joe’s panic lessened. Here was one area where he still felt like a pro—the male/female arena. This was something he still excelled at, charming women. Flirting was second nature to him.

It started with his smile. He watched her reaction to it. Surprise and appreciation flashed in her dark eyes. Not for long, but long enough for him to catch it.

“Sorry I’m late, ma’am.” He added a touch of remorse to his expression.

“And you are?”

“Sergeant Wilder. Sergeant Joe Wilder at your service, ma’am. Before we begin our tour, I’ve got a question.” He drew the teacher aside to a quieter corner. “Which one is she?”

The sexy teacher gave him a blank look. “Excuse me?”

“Which one is Sergeant Major Martin’s daughter?”

“Why do you want to know?” She sounded curious.

“Because I’ve been ordered to give her the deluxe tour of the base and I want to be nice to her.”

“I don’t think you should single her out for any special treatment.”

“Hey, I’m just following orders here.”

“Right. Semper fi. A Marine always does his duty.” Her voice held a new edge.

“You don’t sound very pleased about that. I wonder why? Did you date a Marine or something?”

“That’s a safe bet,” she retorted. “Since this base is home to the largest concentration of Marines and sailors in the world, it would be hard to avoid bumping into a Marine in this part of North Carolina.”

“I wouldn’t mind bumping into you,” Joe murmured with a lopsided grin. “Just name the time and place.”

“I no longer date Marines,” she loftily informed him.

“Why’s that?”

“My reasons are too lengthy to go into here.”

“I’ve got time.” He was certainly in no hurry to have to deal with the kids.

“Well, I don’t,” she replied in irritation. The way she tossed her head and flicked her hair away from her face reminded him of a feral cat he’d tamed as a kid. That cat had refused to let anyone touch it, but Joe had slowly and patiently won it over. That same patience had come in handy where women were concerned.

“So tell me later.”

“Why should I do that?” she said.

“Because I’m a nice guy?”

“Who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

Ouch. So the little cat had claws. Placing his open hand on his chest, he said, “You wound me, ma’am.”

“I sincerely doubt that, Sergeant. I sincerely doubt any woman has wounded you.”

“Why? Because I’m a big, tough Marine?”

“Because you use your charm to keep them at a distance.”

“Hey, if I’m using my charm to keep women at a distance, then something is definitely wrong with my game plan.”

“Game plan? Don’t you mean your battle plan?”

“As in battle between the sexes?” Joe moved closer, so that he could smell her perfume. It was tart and citrusy.

Shifting his attention to that lush smart-talking mouth of hers, he wondered if she’d taste as good as she smelled. Oh, yeah, he had no doubt she’d taste better than a cold beer after a long hike.

He had to grin at his own lack of poetry. Beer and a long hike…that sounded like something his best friend Curt Blackwell would say about his new wife, Jessie.

Joe and Curt had gone to boot camp together and been buddies ever since. Curt was a brooding loner, but that didn’t seem to stop the ladies from lining up for him. Still, Curt had come to Joe for advice when it mattered, when he’d been reunited with Jessie after years apart.

Joe’s advice was good. Jessie had apparently agreed, because she’d become Curt’s wife last year in a full Marine dress wedding with Joe there as Curt’s best man.

Yeah, this male/female flirting stuff was something Joe could still handle with one arm tied behind his back…although he’d have preferred having one arm around the sexy schoolteacher’s shoulders.

She was narrowing her chocolate-brown eyes at him, as if she were able to read his thoughts and wanted to challenge him on their accuracy. Great. He loved a challenge. Especially one that involved a good-looking woman.

“I take it you consider yourself to be an expert in the battle between the sexes,” she said.

“My motto is make love, not war.”

“I’m sure that didn’t come out of the U.S. Marine Procedural Manual.”

“If you’ve been dating guys who base their romantic approach on the Marine Procedural Manual, then I can understand your dissatisfaction,” he murmured. “And I’d love to have the chance to show you how a real Marine woos a woman.” He leaned closer as if tempting her to kiss him, before leaning away to smile at the startled awareness in her eyes. “After I take care of my duty and give the Sergeant Major’s kid her tour. Which one is she? The one with the pigtails and strange socks?”

“No.”

He scanned the roomful of kids, trying to look for some kind of familial resemblance. “Then she must be the one with the short haircut and glasses.”

“Wrong again,” she said coolly.

“Are we going to play twenty questions all day or are you going to tell me which kid is the Sergeant Major’s?”

“A few minutes ago you told me you had plenty of time.”

“A few minutes ago I did have time until…”

“You wasted it flirting with me?” she countered mockingly.

“Look, cut me some slack here, would you?” he said in exasperation. “I’m having a bad day. Just tell me which kid is the Sergeant Major’s so I can figure out where to go from here with this tour stuff. I’m only following…”

“Orders,” she completed the sentence for him. “Yes, I heard you the first time you said that.”

“So what’s the problem?” Joe demanded.

“The problem is that none of these children are Sergeant Major Martin’s.”

Joe frowned. “But that’s not possible. He told me his daughter’s class was here for a tour.”

“His daughter’s class is here for a tour.”

Joe had a bad feeling. “You mean…?”

“That I’m Sergeant Major Martin’s daughter?” the sexy teacher said with a smug smile that didn’t bode well for him. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”




Chapter Two


Prudence Martin watched chagrin flash across Joe Wilder’s handsome face. She’d never seen eyes so Mel Gibson blue. In fact, this Marine favored Mel in several ways—same color brown hair, same square jaw, same humorous glint in his so-blue eyes. Although she could have sworn that she’d seen a glimpse of panic when he’d first entered the room, now she thought she must have imagined it.

He had the same erect military posture of most Marines, but Joe Wilder had something else. A presence. The kids noticed it. They’d quieted noticeably since his arrival.

The khaki service uniform he wore, with its crisp shirt and matching tie and web belt with darker trousers, wasn’t the best color in the world on most men, but she doubted anything looked bad on this man.

And she was stuck spending the weekend with him. Some women might dream of spending time with a sexy man in uniform. Not her.

“Sorry for the confusion, ma’am,” Joe was saying, his voice as smooth as the rest of him. “When your father referred to you as his little princess, I naturally thought…”

“The wrong thing,” she interrupted him to say. She hated her father’s nickname for her. Little Princess. Just hearing it set her teeth on edge.

“I see that now.” The earlier once-over visual he’d given her was back, only much more restrained now that he knew she was his commanding officer’s daughter. Prudence was used to that information making a difference with men—with Marines in particular. Which was one of the major reasons she avoided contact with them.

She’d agreed to have Sergeant Brown accompany her on this field trip because she’d known the man since she was a kid. He was as old as her father and a personal friend.

The same was not true of Joe Wilder.

She’d have to tell her father he wouldn’t do for this assignment. He’d have to find her someone else. Until then, they might as well begin the tour of the base. There was no reason Joe couldn’t do that. She’d then speak to her father about a replacement for the remainder of the weekend.

“Okay, class, listen up now. Sergeant Wilder is here to begin our tour of the base. He’s going to give you some background information about the history of the base and then begin the actual tour. Go ahead, Sergeant Wilder.”

She was a bit surprised by the deer-in-the-headlights look Joe gave the gathered group of twenty-five kids. Maybe speaking in front of a group wasn’t his thing? But then a Marine never showed any fear. And Joe was no different. His voice was strong, his demeanor confident as he began speaking.

“Listen up, everyone. You may address me as either Sergeant Wilder or sir. I’d like to welcome you all today to Camp Lejeune, a United States Marine Corps base, where we train the Marine Air/Ground Task Forces defending our country. Okay, let’s start the tour.” He seemed in a big hurry to get out of the small conference room all of a sudden.

“First tell the class a bit more about the base’s history,” Prudence suggested.

“Well,” he drawled, “the base has been here a long time, ma’am.”

“How long?” she pressed, enjoying putting him on the spot. There was something about the confidently sexy smile he’d flashed at her when he’d first walked into the room that had irked her. Equally irritating was her own response, the quickening of her heartbeat, the awareness of his vivid blue eyes and good looks.

And then there was that moment when he’d leaned close as if to kiss her. She hadn’t been expecting that. She’d gotten used to men keeping their distance.

Turning to the class, Joe said, “Anyone know how long the base has been here?”

Two hands shot up. Since Joe had asked the question, she let him select which student would answer. He picked Pete Greene, a whiz with facts and figures. “Since World War Two, uh, 1941 to be exact, sir.”

“Okay, let’s start the tour,” Joe said again.

Prudence held out a hand, stopping the mass exodus. “I think the class would like to know where the base got its name.”

“Why did they name it after a legume?” Rosa Santos asked. “Aren’t peanuts legumes?”

“It’s Lejeune, dummy,” Pete replied on Joe’s behalf. “And it’s huge, over 153,000 acres.”

Sinatra Washington raised his hand, his silver-rimmed glasses glinting against his dark mocha complexion. “Sergeant Wilder, tell them about the fifty-four live-fire ranges, eighty-nine maneuver areas, thirty-three gun positions and twenty-five tactical landing zones.”

“Maybe you should lead this tour,” Joe replied. “Where did you get all that information?”

“From the Internet, sir.” Sinatra, one of her most curious students and an avid fan of the Internet, held up the sheet of paper he’d printed from his computer.

Not wanting to be left behind in any statistical discussion, Pete said, “I read about that, too. You both failed to mention the state-of-the-art Military Operations in Urban Terrain training facility.”

“I’m telling you, these kids don’t need me here at all.” Joe’s voice may have been filled with humorous teasing, but she suspected there was an underlying element of fact there. He didn’t want to be here. He wasn’t comfortable around the kids. Oh, he tried not to show it, but there was a definite tenseness in his stance.

“Camp Lejeune has a self-guided tour with twenty-five points of interest,” Sinatra stated.

“Self-guided, huh?” Joe repeated.

“Yes, sir. There’s even a tour book that coordinates with the signs for each numbered point of interest.”

“Self-guided. Well, that’s great. Then you definitely don’t need me,” Joe stated with a hearty laugh.

“You’re here to answer any questions,” Prudence reminded him.

He wanted to tell her that to do that he’d have to have access to the tour book, which the kid with the glasses and strange name seemed to have printed off the Internet. He wanted to tell her that he’d only been at the base a few weeks, he wanted to tell her he wasn’t as dumb as he sounded. But most of all he wanted to get the heck out of here. Which meant starting the tour, whether he knew what he was talking about or not.

“This building houses base headquarters,” Joe said as he opened the door and headed down the hallway. If the kids wanted to follow him, fine. No way was he staying in that tiny claustrophobic room with twenty-five kids a second longer. Flirting with her had distracted him for a while, but now that he knew the sexy teacher was off-limits, he didn’t have anything to keep his mind off of the panic.

“The outside of the building looks like my church, only bigger,” Rosa said as she followed him into the hallway, as did all the other kids and along with their rebellious teacher. “Redbrick with that fancy white thing on top.”

“A cupola.” At least that was one answer he could supply.

Rosa frowned up at Joe. “I thought he was the director of the movie The Godfather.”

“That’s Francis Ford Coppola,” Pete said, rolling his eyes at her.

“An easy mistake to make,” Joe said, wanting to keep moving. “As I said, you’re inside Base Headquarters. From here the Commanding General oversees the daily workings of the entire base.”

“And how many Marines would that include?” Prudence asked.

The teacher had it out for him. Joe could tell by the questions she asked and by the way her lush mouth turned up in what he was coming to believe was a diabolical, if sexy, smile each time she asked them.

Fine, honey. Two can play at that game.

“Sinatra, how many Marines would that be?” Joe said.

Consulting his printout first, Sinatra said, “Approximately fifty thousand Marines, Navy personnel, civilian employees and military families, sir.”

Joe liked this kid. As they passed the front lobby with its small display of historical swords, Sinatra discreetly passed him a copy of the self-guided tour book.

“Thanks,” Joe murmured.

“I know what’s it’s like to be picked on,” Sinatra told him with a reassuring smile.

Jeez, he’d come to this. A middle school teacher was picking on him. Him. Joe Wilder. An experienced United States Marine. Being picked on, not picked up as was often the case, by a woman. A sexy woman. A woman who was completely off-limits to him, seeing as how she was his commanding officer’s “little princess.”

He had to find a way to get out of this assignment.

The tour went more smoothly once he had the guidebook in his possession. He was able to tell the class about the massive live oak tree that was estimated to be over 350 years old. When one cocky kid asked him for the Latin name of the tree, he was even able to give that—Quercus virginiana.

Things got a little trickier in the barracks. There was something unexpectedly provocative about being with Prudence in a room filled with so many mattresses. Maybe he wasn’t as bad off as he thought if he could think of sex at a time like this.

Of course, another way of looking at things was that he was truly certifiable to be entertaining the thought of his commanding officer’s daughter and the word sex in the same sentence.

And then there were all the kids, swarming around in masses and sucking all the oxygen from the room.

“These beds are so little,” Pete noted in surprise. “And they’re bunk beds.”

“Here in the Marine Corps, your bed is your rack,” Joe automatically corrected him.

“A rack, huh? It looks like something you’d get tortured on,” Pete agreed.

Torture was being in such close confines with so many kids. Even his first day of boot camp hadn’t made him this jumpy.

“These beds…er, racks,” Pete quickly corrected himself, “are really clean.”

“That’s because Marines have to learn how to make perfectly folded forty-five-degree corners on the sheets when they make their racks,” Prudence said.

“No way!” Pete’s brown eyebrows shot up. “Marines have to make beds…er…racks?”

“Affirmative,” Joe said. “They have to learn the Marine way of making their racks.”

“You see, in the Marine Corps there’s only one right way of doing things and that’s the Marine way,” Prudence said in a mocking voice. Turning to Joe she said, “Tell the kids about the rest of Marine terminology. The floor is called…”

She was the daughter of a Marine, she knew what it was called. She simply wanted to wipe the deck with him. Daddy’s little princess, indeed. Spoiled rotten needed to be added to that description. How dare she mock his beloved Marine Corps? He and the men she mocked put their lives on the line to protect her little fanny. But did she care? Clearly not.

Narrowing his eyes at her, Joe straightened his already ramrod straight shoulders. “The floor is a deck,” he barked, startling her. Good. “To your right and left are bulkheads, not walls. Windows are ports. Above is an overhead, not a ceiling. Upstairs and downstairs do not exist. Instead we use topside and down below. You are facing forward. To your left is port and to your right is starboard. Behind you is aft.”

“My dad has a boat and he uses those words,” Pete said, hurriedly adding, “sir.”

“The terms are a result of the Marine Corps early origins as a sea service,” Joe said.

The tour ended at the Beirut Memorial, commemorating those who died in the 1983 bombing of Battalion Landing Team 1/8’s Headquarters in Lebanon. Joe found it impossible to speak. For once, Prudence was quiet.

By the time the class returned to base headquarters, Joe had regained his self-control. He fielded the kids’ questions as best he could on everything from the possibility of a top secret Marine Corps group that trained to protect earth from extraterrestrial life-forms to why his uniform was green.

During that time, Prudence kept her distance. He could tell she didn’t like him. Which was fine by him. Maybe it would get him off this assignment.

Baby-sitting a bunch of sixth-graders was hardly up his alley. He’d been trained in hand-to-hand combat, in Marine battle tactics and camouflage and survival techniques. Not kid stuff.

Especially not now.

A few years ago Joe might have laughed off this chore. But since the accident, his life had turned upside down. And he was the only one who knew it. Which is the way he planned on keeping things.

“Daddy, this isn’t going to work,” Prudence stated as she perched herself on the corner of his desk.

“Hey, princess, how did the tour go?”

“The man you sent didn’t know much about the base.”

“Well, he’s only been here a few weeks. Give the guy a chance.”

She shook her head, sliding a strand of her dark hair behind one ear before saying, “I think it would be better if you found someone else for the job.”

“Did Sergeant Wilder tell you to come talk to me on his behalf?” her father asked suspiciously.

“No.” The question surprised her. “What makes you say that?”

“The fact that he’s no more pleased about being given this assignment than you are about having him along.”

“There you go then,” Prudence said. “All the more reason to get someone else. You’ve got thousands of Marines here.”

“I’m not the base commander here, princess. I was lucky to get Sergeant Wilder for this assignment on such short notice. I’m afraid you’ll have to cancel the field trip if you don’t take him.” Pausing, he looked over her shoulder to the open doorway. “Ah, here he is now. Come on in, Sergeant.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir,” Joe said, noting the cozy father-daughter setup.

“You’re not interrupting. My daughter was just talking about you. She’s not happy at having you assigned to accompany her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir.” What a lie! The truth was that Joe was filled with relief. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else.…”

“Nonsense,” his commanding officer said. “As I was just telling my daughter, it’s you or no one.”

Joe’s heart fell.

Prudence looked equally disappointed with the news. “We’re not canceling this trip,” she said. “These kids have been looking forward to this for weeks.”

“Twenty-five kids in the Blue Ridge mountains is a bit much for two adults to supervise, don’t you think?” Joe said, still holding out a slim chance of escaping.

“Absolutely,” Prudence agreed, the first time she’d agreed with anything he’d said all day. “Which is why there will only be five students coming on the field trip. The entire class got to come on the tour of the base, but participation in the field trip to the mountains was limited to the top five finalists in our Class Knowledge Fair.” Hopping off her father’s desk, she kissed her dad on the cheek before turning to face Joe. “I guess it looks like we’re stuck with each other.”




Chapter Three


“I can’t believe you’re actually calling me for help,” Curt Blackwell noted, his amusement apparent over the phone line.

A year ago Joe had stood up at Curt’s wedding as his best man. Funny how things changed. In the past, Curt had always been the loner and Joe the life of the party. Now Curt was happily married and had a young daughter named Blue. And it was Joe who was struggling.

“This has got to be a first,” Curt was saying. “Usually it’s the other way around, me calling you.”

“Yeah, well, enjoy it while you can, buddy, because it’s not going to happen very often. Not if you gloat like this every time I call you looking for some help.”

“I won’t gloat every time,” Curt replied. “Just this time.”

“There’s no time for gloating. Just think of some way I can get out of this stupid mess.”

“A Marine never avoids an assignment.”

“He does if it involves escorting his commanding officer’s daughter into the mountains of North Carolina for the weekend.”

“How old is she?” Curt asked.

“I don’t know. Late twenties, I’d guess.”

“Sounds like a plum assignment for a ladies’ man like you. What’s the problem?”

“She’s bringing some of her sixth-grade class with her. She’s a teacher. And we didn’t exactly hit it off.”

“What?” Curt sounded mockingly incredulous. “Another first! A woman who doesn’t fall at your feet? Wait till I tell Jessie.”

“This is privileged material,” Joe said emphatically. “So don’t go blabbing anything to that cute wife of yours.”

“Since when are the details of your sex life a matter of national security?” Curt retorted.

“Since they involved the daughter of my C.O.” Joe used the abbreviation for commanding officer.

“I guess you do have a point there. Okay, this will remain between the two of us.”

“Fine. Now give me an idea of how to get out of this.”

“If the order is an illegal one…”

“Don’t I wish,” Joe muttered. “But last time I checked there was no law against getting stuck with a spoiled, sexy teacher who has it in for me. Nor is it illegal to be called on to fill-in for a public affairs officer who needed emergency surgery and couldn’t lead this weekend excursion himself. The order isn’t illegal, just a pain in the butt.”

“Did you mention that you haven’t been posted down there in North Carolina very long—”

“Affirmative,” Joe interrupted him to confirm. “Tried that approach. Unsuccessful.”

“You said the daughter wasn’t fond of you. Did you—?”

“Point that out? Affirmative,” Joe again interrupted. “Deemed irrelevant by the C.O.”

“Then I guess you’re stuck.”

“Gee, thanks, that was real helpful, Blackwell,” Joe said sarcastically. “I’m so glad I called you.”

Curt laughed. “Hey, anytime I can help, I’m just a phone call away.”

Joe’s growl didn’t need translating.

“You’re stuck, Wilder,” Curt said. “Make the most of it is my advice to you. Semper Gumby, buddy. Be flexible.”

“Yeah, right.” Frustrated, Joe flipped the cover on his cellular phone and stared at the bag he had packed while talking to Curt. A Marine was always ready to leave, never knowing when some situation might require him to defend his country.

What about defending his sanity? Joe wondered caustically, furious with himself for feeling the way he did. What was the procedure for that?

He was a Marine, by God. There were no foxholes in the Marines. Foxholes are for those who want to hide. In the Marines they had fighting holes. There was no hiding in the Marines. He’d been trained to fight.

His father and his grandfather had been Marines. He was part of a proud tradition—the few, the proud, the Marines.

Joe glanced down at his watch. His allotted hour was almost up. Falling back on years of conditioning and training, he willed his misgivings away and completed packing with ruthless efficiency. The sooner he got started on this idiotic assignment, the sooner it would be over with.

Joe Wilder was late. Prudence couldn’t believe it. Marines were rarely late. Commissioned officers or enlisted men—it didn’t matter. They tended to work with military precision. Especially those in her father’s command.

Maybe Joe had chickened out? Yeah, right.

Or maybe he’d come up with someone else to take his place? Yeah, right. As if he’d disobey an order.

Or maybe that was him over there talking to Sinatra…

Yes, it most certainly was.

So why hadn’t Joe alerted her to his presence instead of letting her stand around like a doofus waiting for him? There was just something about him that set her teeth on edge.

From the moment he’d walked into that conference room and flashed his confident smile at her, she’d known that this was a man used to getting his own way where women were concerned. She’d seen the type before.

Yes, he was better looking than most men. And, yes, he had incredible blue eyes. But there was no way she was going to be swayed by a man in uniform. She’d been down that path before.

Joe Wilder might not have been at the base very long, but already he had the reputation for being a heartbreaking daredevil. At one point his wild ways would have appealed to her, but she’d grown up since then and those days were long gone.

Being stuck out in the wilds on the North Carolina mountains with a sexy Marine was one of her worst nightmares. That and spiders. She’d always been a sissy about spiders. Snakes and other bugs didn’t bother her one little bit. But spiders gave her the willies.

Even a sexy Marine was better than getting stuck with spiders. Besides, the bottom line here was that she was immune to the charms of any man in a uniform. She’d been played for a fool once by Steven Banks, who had professed to love her but had really been looking to pay back her father. Steven, a commissioned Navy officer who’d gone to Annapolis, hadn’t appreciated the lukewarm performance evaluation her father, an enlisted man and a Marine to boot, had given him. So he’d gotten even by going after Prudence behind her father’s back.

Prudence didn’t intend to make the same mistake twice by getting involved with another military man. She was currently dating a very nice teacher named George Rimes. He was quiet and studious. A birdwatcher. He’d wanted to accompany her this weekend but had had to return home to Iowa for a family wedding.

And so she was stuck with Joe Wilder—who was as far off the high end of the masculinity spectrum as you could get from shy George.

“Sergeant Wilder, are you ready to go?” Her voice reflected her impatience.

“Yes, ma’am.”

His words didn’t sound too convincing to her, although they were delivered in a Marine’s clipped voice. “Good.”

She’d already run through the detailed checklist she had on her clipboard twice, covering everything from sleeping bags to sunblock, to make sure that none of her students had forgotten anything.

She also had signed parental approval forms from everyone. She’d wanted to include a parent for the outing, but none had volunteered or even been willing to be drafted. Which left her and Joe Wilder as the only adults accompanying the five students. Of course, Joe was a Marine so that meant he probably counted as two adults…as least as far as he was concerned. Marines were nothing if not confident. “Then let’s get in the van, everyone.”

Joe quickly stowed his gear in the back of the van, which was already packed tight, and then headed for the driver’s seat.

“I’m driving,” Prudence informed him.

“She’s a good driver,” Sinatra told Joe reassuringly. “For a teacher.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Sinatra,” Prudence said. “Sergeant, you no doubt remember Sinatra, Rosa and Pete from the tour we took a short while ago.”

Joe nodded. Sinatra was the one who’d taken pity on him, Pete was the whiz with facts and figures and Rosa was the one with the unusual questions. He didn’t recognize the other two kids, though. One was an Asian kid with a short buzz haircut and a silver earring in his left ear. The other was an African-American girl who was eyeing him with blatant skepticism while proudly wearing an I’m Mean And Green T-shirt. But then he hadn’t really been paying attention to the entire herd of kids. After the first minute or two their faces had blurred as he’d focused on maintaining his control.

“This is Keishon Williams,” Prudence said, putting her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “And this is Gem Wong,” she added, turning to the boy with the earring.

“Nice tattoo, sir,” Gem noted with a nod at the eagle on Joe’s upper arm.

“Nice earring,” Joe said in return.

The kid grinned, the flash of sunlight off his silver braces nearly blinding Joe. Time for more aspirin. His post-hangover headache was coming back. And the thought of being in the passenger seat while the sexy but infuriating teacher drove the van didn’t help improve his mood any.

“I can drive,” Joe said, hoping against hope that she’d give in.

“I’m sure you can,” she replied. “I heard about your motorcycle racing escapades.”

“You race motorcycles? Awesome,” Pete asked.

“You don’t trust me, ma’am?” Joe asked her.

She sidestepped answering that one. “It’s my van. I’ll drive. That way, while we’re en route, Sergeant Wilder can give you some wilderness tips for our weekend.”

“When they trained you in survival stuff in the Marines, did you have to eat live bugs like those guys on that TV show where they were stuck on an island?” Pete asked.

“Larva,” Sinatra corrected him.

“I read on the Internet that you shouldn’t eat mice because you could get some disease,” Pete said.

“I wouldn’t eat mice because I’m a vegetarian,” Keishon stated with a shudder.

Pete grinned. “You’d eat ’em if you were hungry enough.”

Infuriated by his attitude, Keishon yelled, “Would not!”

“Would so!” Pete shouted right back.

“Williams and Greene, cease and desist!” Joe barked.

The two kids looked at him in astonishment before Keishon loftily informed him, “It’s not nice to call someone by their last name.”

It wasn’t nice for them to argue when his head felt like it was going to detonate. But then the world wasn’t a nice place. The sooner they knew that the better.

How was he going to manage cooped up in this tin can of a van with five kids for hours?

He just had to stop thinking of them as kids and instead treat them as recruits. Really short recruits. Maybe that would help his stress level.

He’d dealt with raw recruits before.

“Isn’t this van equipped with a video player?” Pete asked.

“She won’t let us watch The Matrix,” Gem quietly complained.

“I’ve already seen it ten times,” Pete bragged.

“Then you don’t need to see it again,” Prudence said. “Instead I want you to notice how the trees change as we head away from the coast and head for the mountains.”

“That was some big bad kind of tree on the base,” Sinatra noted.

“It’s 350 years old,” Pete said.

“That was just an estimate,” Rosa reminded them.

“Now she’ll probably tell us how many inches the tree grows every year,” Pete said in exasperation. “She’s the class math whiz.”

“So why were you all chosen for this mission?” Joe had almost slipped up and called them kids. Mistake. Short recruits. Really short recruits, that’s what they were.

Not that the image was helping as much as it should.

“We are the five finalists in our class Knowledge Fair. Our projects were chosen by Principal Vann as the best,” Sinatra proudly stated. “We had to come up with a hypothesis and then try and prove it was true. Mine was that the Internet improves kids’ grades if they use it for researching science homework projects.”

“My hypothesis is that a vegetarian diet is healthier than a nonvegetarian one,” Keishon said.

“Mine was that the hole in the ozone layer is changing the climate,” Pete said. “Gem’s was about the life cycle of a frog and Rosa’s was about using rings in a tree to figure its age.”

“Do you do have to do a hypothesis to be in the Marines?” Rosa asked him. “Do you have to prove that something is true?”

Did he have something to prove? Constantly. Corps values—honor, courage, commitment—were the life-blood of a Marine. From the second a recruit stepped off the bus at Marine Corp Recruit Depot the Marine Corps created a change of mind, body and spirit meant to last a lifetime. They were constantly taking on challenges that proved a recruit was worthy of being called a United States Marine.

Did he have something to prove? You bet. Was he still worthy? Joe didn’t know…and that was one of the many things eating away at him.

“In the Marines, do you have tests like we have in school?” Rosa continued.

Focus on the facts and figures, he ordered himself. “Boot camp has five graduation requirements—rifle qualification, swim qualification, a physical fitness test, battalion-commander’s inspection and scoring eighty percent on academic tests.”

“Eighty percent isn’t that good,” Keishon pointed out. “That would only be a B in our class.”

“Depending on the scores of the rest of the class,” Rosa said. “Girls can be Marines, right?”

“Affirmative,” Joe replied. “I pointed out their training area and barracks area during the base tour.”

“Girls can be whatever they want to be,” Prudence added.

“Were you ever a Marine?” Rosa asked her.

“No,” Prudence replied. “I always wanted to be a teacher.”

“There aren’t any teachers in the Marines?” Rosa said.

Prudence shook her head. “Only drill instructors, and they aren’t the same thing.”

“I don’t know,” Joe drawled, giving her a wry look. “I can easily imagine you barking out orders in BWT, ma’am.”

“What’s BWT?” Pete asked, always eager to learn something new.

“Basic Warrior Training,” Joe replied.

“You think Ms. Martin is a warrior?” Pete said.

Joe nodded. “She was raised by a warrior.”

“That would be my mom,” Prudence told her students. “Not that my dad is any slouch, either,” she noted with a grin. “After all, he is a Marine.”

“I was referring to your father,” Joe said.

She gave him a mocking look. “No kidding.”

“Is kidding allowed in the Marines?” Pete asked.

Joe thought back to the numerous practical jokes he’d played on his brothers or his buddies over the years. “In very special circumstances and under certain conditions, then the answer is that sometimes kidding is allowed, yes.”

Pete frowned. “I didn’t think warriors were supposed to be kidding around.”

“Sometimes laughter is the only thing that keeps you going when it seems impossible to continue,” Joe quietly said, his smile disappearing. And sometimes even that didn’t work.

The Fates had to be laughing their heads off at him, crammed in a tin can van with five kids and his C.O.’s daughter. Yeah, someone up there was no doubt having hysterics right about now.

Too bad Joe wasn’t laughing with them. A year ago, none of this would have bothered him. But then Joe was a very different Marine than he’d been a year ago.

So far he seemed to be the only one aware of it. But that awareness was slowly eating away at him, along with the guilt and the secret shame that he was no longer good enough, strong enough, courageous enough to be called a United States Marine.

He bolted down those dark emotions and focused his attention on the passing scenery. They’d left the coastal plain and the short palmetto palms behind. They’d also passed the urban areas of Raleigh-Durham and Winston-Salem, traveling clear across the state until they were now surrounded by pine forests. The green foothills had given way to bigger mountains, their rounded curves flowing from one ridge to the next in layers of smoky-blue.

The kids…er…the very short recruits continued peppering him with questions for the remainder of the drive. Every so often, Joe would turn to look at Prudence to see if he could read her thoughts. She didn’t talk much, letting him do the bulk of the work in responding to the questions being tossed his way by her ubercurious students. The small smile on her lips made him think that she was enjoying putting him in the hot seat.

Looking at her mouth made him hot, hot in a different way. Hot to kiss her, hot to taste her mouth, part her lips with his tongue and…

Joe blinked. What was he doing? He had no business fantasizing about his commanding officer’s daughter. No business at all.

Ordering his gaze away from her, he reminded himself that she was off-limits to him in every way.

“Is it true Marines have nicknames like Jughead?” Keishon said.

Joe tried not to wince. “Jarhead, not Jughead.”

“What other nicknames do Marines have?”

“Devil Dogs,” Joe replied.

“Sounds like a kind of hot dog they have at Dog ’n’ Suds. I think it has hot peppers in it,” Pete said.

Joe tried not to grit his teeth. “Sinatra, do you know why Marines are called Devil Dogs?”

“It better not be because they’re mean to dogs,” Keishon, the animal activist, said.

“Marines aren’t mean to dogs. The name came from the Germans during the first World War,” Sinatra proudly replied.

“Teufelhunden,” Joe said. “So named because of the Marines’ tenacity in combat during the Battle of Belleau Wood. Nice going, Sinatra.”

“Teacher’s pet,” Pete muttered.

“What was that?” Joe demanded, using his drill instructor voice.

“Nothing,” Pete quickly replied. “I was just…uh…coughing, sir.”

Just when Joe was sure he couldn’t stand being cooped up with this bunch a second later, Prudence cheerfully announced, “We’re here!”

The Sunshine Trailhead wasn’t nearly as impressive as it sounded. In reality it was merely a graveled parking lot. But it represented the end of the line as far as being stuck in this van with Pete, Keishon, Gem, Rosa and Sinatra—not to mention their impossibly sexy teacher Prudence.

Joe was the first one out of the van. As he watched the really short recruits climbing out of the van, he was reminded of circus routine he’d seen as a kid with clowns tumbling out of a VW Bug.

This wasn’t the most graceful bunch of really short recruits he’d ever seen. Not that being graceful was something a Marine aimed for, but this group seemed to fall over their own feet an awful lot.

Meanwhile Prudence stood watch with a clipboard, ticking off items as they were unpacked from the van.

“Six sleeping bags…” She paused to count them off as each student donned their backpack. “Check. Two tents. Check. Six backpacks. Check. I’m assuming you’re responsible for your own items, Sergeant Wilder?”

“Affirmative,” he replied, while efficiently adding the larger of the tents to his pack.

Prudence watched him work, the muscles in his arms rippling as he easily hefted the pack and put it on. He didn’t have the bulky frame of a football player or wrestler, but he was powerfully built in a lean-and-mean kind of way.

The sun had seared crinkles around his eyes, or maybe those were laugh lines? She was only now noticing that his nose and jaw weren’t perfectly symmetrical, saving him from a merely pretty-boy handsomeness. His was the face of a man who’d seen and done more than his fair share of living.

He’d been fairly good-natured about the kids’ incessant questions during the drive. She was surprised. She shouldn’t have been. Marines were infamous for following orders and as Joe had told her more than once, he’d been ordered to accompany her and her students on this field trip.

But that didn’t mean he’d grown any more comfortable with the situation. She still didn’t know what it was about the kids that made him uneasy. Maybe he was an only child or something and didn’t have much experience with kids.

She could ask him, she supposed. But she was hesitant to form a friendship with him. She didn’t want to know if he was an only child, didn’t want to know why his nose was a little off-kilter. The man himself made her feel off-kilter all the time. Keeping her distance, emotionally even if she couldn’t do that physically, was clearly the wise thing to do in this situation.

Yes, she was spending the weekend in the mountains with him, but they were being chaperoned by five sixth-graders. And it wasn’t as if she was dressed like a fashion model or anything. Her hardy hiking boots were hardly the thing to turn a man’s head. She was wearing the same khaki slacks and white T-shirt she’d had on earlier. She’d added a long-sleeved denim shirt and tied a red windbreaker around her waist.

Glancing at her reflection in the van’s outside mirror, she adjusted the silver hair clip she’d fastened her hair back with before turning to inspect her students. She checked each child’s backpack to make sure it was properly positioned, wasn’t too heavy and that the straps weren’t twisted.

Finally they headed off, with Joe in the front and Prudence bringing up the rear. From this vantage point she watched Joe. She’d always had a thing for guys in jeans, which is why she was surprised to find her heartbeat quickening. The man was wearing camouflage utilities, for heaven’s sake. Camies. Hardly sexy attire. But it was the man not the uniform that was getting to her. It was the man who was getting away from her as he set a pace much too fast for this group.

“Sergeant, we’re not on an enforced march here,” she called out. “We’re supposed to be enjoying the wilderness, not marching through it double-time.”

Joe shortened his usual long stride and fast tempo in order for the others to keep up with him. Even so, Prudence wasn’t satisfied, as she indicated when they took their first rest stop.

“Sergeant, you’re supposed to be leading the troop,” she said, “not running away from us.”

Her words were a deliberate red flag. A Marine never ran away from anything.

Prudence was trying to taunt him. He refused to give her the satisfaction of reacting.

Ignoring her comment, he spoke to the really short recruits, addressing them as if they were “poolies”—high school seniors who’d signed up for delayed entry into the Marine Corps upon graduation. “While we’re paused here, I’ll review the Marine Corps Survival techniques. Think of the word Survival. S stands for Sizing Up The Situation.”

The situation was that Joe was stuck in the mountains with a forbidden woman and five kids.

Shoving that thought aside, Joe asked. “What can you hear and see?”

“I hear birds and the wind in the trees,” Sinatra said.

“And I see a squirrel on that tree over there,” Rosa said.

“What about smell?” Joe asked.

“Hey, I took a shower this morning,” Pete declared. “I don’t smell.”

Joe stifled a laugh. “Close your eyes and sniff the air. What can you smell?”

“Pine. I smell pine,” Pete replied. “What about you, sir? What do you smell?”

Perfume. Joe smelled Prudence’s perfume. Like Al Pacino in that movie, Joe was pretty good at identifying a woman’s perfume. But this one had him stymied. It was something citrusy with a bit…of cinnamon maybe?

Erase that thought, Joe ordered himself. He refused to allow her entry into his thoughts. And if she barged into his thoughts, he vowed to toss her out.

“I smell pine, too,” Joe replied. “Now U stands for Undue Haste Makes Waste.”

“My point exactly,” Prudence inserted.

“R stands for Remember Where You Are.” Joe pointed to the topographical hiking map he had with him. “Orient yourself to the terrain, like that mountain over there.”

“The mountains all look the same,” Pete said.

“Not if you look closely,” Joe said. “See how it has that stand of bare trees near the top?”

“Probably killed by acid rain,” Keishon stated darkly.

Joe continued, “V stands for Vanquishing Fear and Panic.” Yeah, right. This was one Joe had to work on himself, big-time. He shoved those thoughts aside. “I stands for Improvise. V stands for Value Living and A for Act Like Natives.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keishon said. “What natives live in the mountains?”

“Animals,” Gem replied on Joe’s behalf. “Animals live in the mountains.”

“And animals are smarter than people,” Keishon said. “They know stuff, like where water is, right?”

“That’s right,” Joe said. “So we’ve covered S…U…R…V…I…V…A. Which leaves us with?”

“L,” Sinatra supplied.

“And L stands for Live by Your Wits,” Joe concluded. “Learning basic skills helps you develop your self-confidence.”

Sinatra nodded. “I checked out some camping Web sites and learned about wilderness skills stuff. It made me feel better about this trip, made me look forward to it more.”

Keishon added, “And Ms. Martin covered other information in class.”

Covered…oh, yes, he’d like to see Ms. Martin covered, all right. Covered in yards and yards of concealing material, because maybe then he wouldn’t notice the way her T-shirt molded the curve of her breasts. He was watching the woman breathe, for God’s sake. Not a good sign.

“All right, recruits,” Joe barked. “Time to move out!” And time for him to remember the goals of his mission this weekend where Prudence Martin was concerned—survival, not seduction.




Chapter Four


“I don’t agree,” Prudence was saying.

Surprise, surprise, Joe irritably thought to himself. His C.O.’s little princess hadn’t agreed with one single thing he’d done or said for the past two hours.

Pointing to a spot just to her right in the opposite direction of the place Joe had chosen, she said, “I think this campsite is better.”

“It is if you want the cold night air blowing through your tent. The prevailing winds here are from the west, which means you don’t want the entrance to your tent facing that way. Ma’am,” he added.

“Why didn’t you just say why you wanted the tent placed the way you did in the first place?” she asked in exasperation before holding up her hand like a cop stopping traffic. “Never mind, I know the answer to that question. Because you’re a Marine and you’re used to having your orders blindly obeyed.” Placing her hands on her slender hips, she said, “Well, I’m not one of your recruits.”

“No kidding, ma’am,” he drawled respectfully, unable to stop himself from appreciating what a pretty picture she made, standing there all flushed and riled up.

“So let’s both keep in mind the reason we’re here.”

“Because your father, my commanding officer, ordered me to be here, ma’am,” he said.

“To give the kids an educational and enjoyable outing,” she corrected him. “They worked hard on their science projects and I don’t want anything ruining this weekend for them.” Her gaze was direct, her chocolate-brown eyes unwavering. “So what do you say we call a temporary truce?” She held out her hand. “For the kids. Shall we shake on it?”

There was no reason for Joe to hesitate. No reason to expect the powerful jolt of sexual attraction that slammed into him at the feel of her slender fingers curled around his hand. But it was there. Unmistakable. Ferocious. Unsettling.

Studying her face, he saw that Prudence felt it, too. There was a startled yet intrigued look in her eyes that he found incredibly appealing. He’d found plenty of women sexy in the past, but none of them had made him feel downright bedazzled the way she did.

Danger, Joe Wilder! The silent warning shot through his mind and he dropped her hand as if it were a live grenade.

Sure, Joe liked a challenge, especially one that involved a good-looking woman, but he was no dummy. This wasn’t a challenge, it was professional suicide.

Taking any action on the sizzling chemistry crackling between them would be a speedy one-way ticket right out of the Marines. Her father would see to that. Not that there was any regulation against dating your C.O.’s daughter; it was one of those unspoken rules like not putting your hand in a raging inferno. Common sense dictated you didn’t do stupid things like that.

And Joe had plenty of common sense. Or at least he always had in the past.

Stepping away from her, he concentrated on getting the two tents up, making sure the very short recruits assisted.

Watching him supervise the kids, Prudence rubbed her fingers, which still hummed from his touch. He had a large hand, but it wasn’t his handshake that had been overpowering. No, it was Joe that was overpowering. And not just in a physical way, although she was extremely aware of him physically.

The camies and field jacket he wore were hardly the most sexy attire. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen thousands of Marines dressed identically in her lifetime. But there was something about this Marine that got to her.

Maybe it was his Mel Gibson blue eyes or the slight dimple at the right of his mouth when he smiled. There was just something about him…

It certainly wasn’t his way with kids. He was still on edge around them.

Oh, it wasn’t noticeable if you weren’t looking. But she was looking, that was the problem. She was looking at Joe Wilder entirely too much.

Asking Gem and Keishon to help her, she gathered firewood for a campfire. The campsite already had an area for fires designated by a ring of large rocks. By the time they had a healthy-size fire going, the tents were up and the sleeping bags stowed.





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