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Last Virgin In California
Last Virgin In California
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Last Virgin In California

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“Watching.”

“Ah-hah.” She folded her arms across her chest, leaned back and gave him a victorious smile. “In other words, observing.”

She watched him grind his teeth together. Every muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched several times before he trusted himself to speak.

“Whatever I’m doing, it’s my job,” he said. “These kids don’t need an audience.”

“Hardly an audience. One woman. In the background. Watching.”

“No.”

“Look,” Michaels interrupted, apparently sensing that there was going to be no time limit at all to this argument, “all I need to know is if you can do it.”

Kevin, still scowling, said, “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good, thanks.” Touching the brim of his hat with his fingertips, he glanced at Lilah and said, “Ma’am, enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” she said, but he had already done an about-face and was striding away, leaving she and Kevin alone again.

Before she had the chance to open the discussion again though, he was looking at her. “Forget about it,” he said tightly.

One thing Lilah had never been able to stand was being told what to do. Another reason why she’d never have made it in the military.

“I could pull rank on you,” she said.

“You don’t have a rank,” he reminded her.

“My father does.”

“He’d be on my side.”

Hmm. She suspected that was true. Her father was a stickler for the rules. Poor man.

“What harm could it do?”

“None, ’cause you won’t be there.”

“You know,” she said, walking again, headed across the grounds toward a patch of grass where several squads were drilling, “I don’t need your permission.”

“Actually,” he said, falling into step beside her, “yeah. You do.”

“What?” She looked up, and her hair flew across her eyes. She clawed at it, then reached around, grabbing a handful of hair and holding it in place at the nape of her neck. Hard to argue with a person when your own hair was working against you.

“I’m a senior D.I.,” he said and darned if he didn’t look like he was enjoying himself, saying it. “I train the instructors. They answer to me. I look after the new recruits. I say who comes and goes.” He bent down again, bringing his gaze in a direct line with hers. “And I say you don’t go anywhere near the new recruits tonight. Understand?”

Lilah ducked back into the shadows as the bus pulled around the corner and came to a stop. Two in the morning and the faces she could make out through the windows were wild-eyed. “Probably scared to death,” she muttered, then slunk farther back into the darkness as the sound of footsteps rose up from close by.

Staff Sergeant Michaels, with Kevin Rogan just a step or two behind him, headed for the bus. The driver slammed the double doors open with a “thunk” that seemed to echo in the otherwise stillness.

Lilah went up on her toes and wished she was five inches taller. She’d never liked being short. People never took short people seriously. They always thought you were “cute.” Besides, she’d rather reach her own cereal down from the top shelf at the grocery store, thank you very much. But she’d never been as frustrated with her height as she was at the moment.

“Not bad enough I have to hide like a criminal,” she whispered, “but I go to all the trouble of coming down here and now I can’t see anything.”

Sergeant Michaels vaulted up the three steps into the bus and started his long walk down the narrow aisle. She caught glimpses of pale faces and she could only make out the Gunny’s silhouette, but she had no trouble at all hearing him.

“Listen up!” he thundered in a roar that was designed to capture everyone’s attention. “When I give you the word, you will get the hell off this bus. Then you will stand in the yellow footprints painted on the pavement. You will then wait for further instructions. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” came a desultory answer from only a handful of the kids trapped on that bus.

“From this moment on,” Michaels screamed and Lilah was pretty sure even she flinched, “you will begin and end every answer to every question with “sir.” Is that clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” A few more voices this time.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

With that, he strode back down the center aisle, left the bus and stood just at the bottom of the steps. “Move, move, move, move…” he shouted and instantly, dozens of feet went into action.

Clamoring to hurry, racing to follow instructions, a bunch of kids who only the day before had only to worry about which hamburger joint to have lunch in rushed toward destiny. Lilah winced in silent sympathy for what she knew they’d be going through soon. Boot camp was rough, but if they made it through, each of those kids would be stronger than they ever would have believed possible. Heaven knew she had never really felt as though she belonged, but she respected what the Corps could do. What they represented. What was possible with the kind of teamwork taught in the Marines.

A flash of pride swelled inside her as she listened to those feet hustling off the bus. They were scared now, but in a few short weeks, they’d be proud.

“I should have known,” a voice came from right beside her and Lilah jumped, just managing to stifle a screech of surprise.

Grabbing the base of her throat, she half turned and looked up into now familiar green eyes. “Good God, you almost killed me,” she said.

“Don’t tempt me.”

She straightened up to her full, less than impressive height. “Hey, I’m not one of those kids, you can’t order me around.”

“That seems pretty clear,” he muttered, then grabbed her upper arm in a grip that told her his temper was carefully leashed. “Why are you here?”

Lilah flashed him a grin. “Because you told me I couldn’t be.”

“You know,” he said, with a shake of his head, “I never thought I’d feel sorry for an officer. But damned if I don’t feel some sympathy for the Colonel.”

“I’ll pass that along for you,” she said.

Chapter Four

“Do you ever do what you’re told?” he asked, voice tight.

“Almost never,” she said softly.

And damned if she didn’t sound proud of that little fact.

Standing here in the dark with her, Kevin wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle her or kiss her. Either way would only lead to trouble though, so he resisted both impulses.

Still, he felt her warmth, felt it drawing him in. And after being so cold for so long, the temptation to step closer was a strong one. Warning bells went off in his mind, but unfortunately, his mind wasn’t in charge at the moment.

Moonlight barely reached into this one little darkened corner of the base. But even in the dim light, he had no trouble making out her delicate features, the paleness of her skin or that wild tangle of hair lying about her face and well past her shoulders. He caught a whiff of her perfume and it tantalized him, making something inside him clutch up tight and hard. And he damn well resented it.

What was it about this one tiny woman that seemed to be getting past every defense he’d erected over the last couple of years?

“How’d you know I was here?” she asked, keeping her voice low enough that no one else would hear her. Especially over Staff Sergeant Michaels’s shouting.

How to explain that, he wondered. He wasn’t about to admit that he’d sensed her presence. He would cheerfully stand up against a wall and smile at a firing squad before confessing that he’d actually been looking for her. So he picked up her left wrist and gave it a gentle shake.

Silvery music tinkled into the darkness from the chimes she habitually wore.

“Ah,” Lilah said. “I knew I should have dressed a little more covertly.”

“A little more?” he asked, letting his gaze drift down her compact, curvy body. Even in the dark, he could see that she wasn’t exactly dressed for espionage. She wore some light-colored full-length sweater over yet another swirly skirt and a pale blouse. She couldn’t be more noticeable if she were doused in glow-in-the-dark paint.

“So I’m not spy material,” she quipped. “Besides, I don’t look good in black.”

He was pretty sure she’d look good in whatever she wore, but he had no intention of saying so.

“C’mon,” he said, still keeping a grip on her wrist. “I’ll take you home.”

She dug in her heels. “I could just stay here and—”

“Forget it,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to where the new recruits were being hustled in out of the damp fog and into the receiving center. “Show’s over.”

She looked past him, then lifted her gaze to his. “Okay, I’ll go. But you don’t have to walk me. Sergeant Michaels is probably expecting you inside.”

True, he thought, looking from the tiny woman beside him to the well-lit glass doors to his left. But there were more Marines inside who could help out. And he didn’t think the Colonel would appreciate his daughter left to walk across the base alone in the middle of the night.

Decision made, he said, “Wait here.” Then he dropped her hand and marched off to receiving. It only took a moment or two to tell Michaels that he was taking off and then he was stepping back into the damp night, peering into the mists of fog drifting across the yard.

He glanced at the spot where he’d left her with orders to stay put. Naturally, she wasn’t there. Knowing her, she could be anywhere on base by now. “Dammit,” he muttered.

She laughed from somewhere just ahead of him. “Have you ever tried meditation?”

“No,” he said, narrowing his gaze to stare into the fog, looking for her.

“You should. It would help with that temper.”

“You know what else would help?” he asked as he moved forward quietly, scanning the area, searching for a glimpse of that pale sweater.

“What’s that?”

“People doing what I tell ’em to do.”

“Like giving orders, do you?”

“Better than you like taking them, apparently.”

Then she was there. Right in front of him. Materializing out of the fog as though she were a part of it somehow. Mist clung to her hair and body and shone in damp patches on her cheeks. She tilted her head back, smiled up at him and he felt a cold, hard fist close around his heart.

“You should keep that in mind then, huh?”

Oh, there were a lot of things he’d have to keep in mind about her, Kevin told himself firmly. Not least of which was the fact that she was the engaged daughter of the Colonel and only here temporarily.

“Doesn’t it look eerie out here?” she whispered and her voice was softened even further by the heavy mist surrounding them.

“Yeah,” he said. “It does.”

“Sort of like a horror movie.”

He’d never really noticed that before, but got into the spirit of things. “Just before something comes lurching out of the fog?”

She took a step closer to him and let her gaze sweep across the shrouded base. “Okay, bad idea to go down that road.”

“Scaring yourself?” he asked, surprised. Hell, he would have been willing to bet that nothing scared her. Certainly not her father. Or him. But apparently, the boogeyman could do it.

She linked her arm through his as he started walking. He knew this base like his own backyard. Foggy or not, he could get her back home with no trouble.

“Not a big fan of scary movies,” she admitted. “I get too involved, too drawn into the plot, then it’s like I’m the one being chased by a knife-wielding maniac.” She shivered. “Nope. Give me romantic comedies.”

The fog acted like a blanket, keeping them wrapped in a small cocoon of silence. Only their own footsteps sounded out, like twin heartbeats, thumping in time. The grip of her hand on his arm was strong and warm and damned if Kevin wasn’t enjoying it. It had been too long since he’d taken a walk with a woman. And even though this was strictly business, so to speak, that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it.

“Me,” he mused aloud, “I’m more of an action-adventure movie person.”

“Gee,” she said with a half laugh, “there’s a surprise.”

He chuckled, too. “Nothing better than a few good explosions and a couple of firefights.”

“Ah, the romance.”

“Ah, the glory.”

They walked on in a companionable silence for another minute or two and then she spoke. Kevin had been wondering just how long she could go without talking. Clearly, not very long.

“So what do you do when you’re not being Gunnery Sergeant Rogan?”

“When am I not?” he wondered aloud.

“Vacations,” she supplied, “days off. R and R.”

It had been so long since he’d taken any personal time, he couldn’t remember what he’d done. Of course, before the divorce, he’d had plenty of plans for vacations and even retirement. Maybe buy a boat and run a charter fishing service off one of the islands in the Caribbean.

But then, his neat little world had dissolved and so had the plans.

Her question was still hanging in the damp air between them though, so he found an answer that would satisfy her curiosity. “I go see my sister and brothers. And my new niece.”

Lilah heard the pride in his voice and smiled wistfully to herself. As an only child, she would never get to be Aunty Lilah. And at the rate she was going, she’d never get to be “mom” either. Suddenly, she saw herself thirty years from now, curled up in her same apartment in San Francisco, surrounded by cats and peering through the curtains at the world going on without her.