Heartless A Shieldmaiden's Voice: A Covenant Keeper Novel Page 8

  What could she say? What if he sent her away? Despite the draw she knew he had to feel, he hadn’t sought her out. How had he resisted? What if he hadn’t felt her heart at all? That thought hurt. More than wanting him, Carole needed him. It had been years since she’d felt another heart. She couldn’t walk away from it. In the shadows she made up her mind and lifted her chin stubbornly. He wouldn’t say no. She wouldn’t let him. The voices didn’t say a word.

  AT THE EDGE of the pool Ted pushed himself out of the water. Dripping he walked to a lounge chair and picked up a towel, drying sopping hair, vigorously rubbing the absorbent towel over his head. The remembered curls emerged as water ran down strong arms and dripped off his elbows onto the lounge. Silently Carole walked up behind him. He must have sensed something, because he immediately spun around to face her. Surprise furrowed thick brows and his mouth opened slightly. Ted had a classically handsome face, long-nosed and full-lipped, but what Carole wanted to see there was acceptance. For long moments she worried he would reject her, his expression of disbelief seemed frozen. Whatever thoughts were going through his mind didn’t look welcoming. Pressing her fists against her thighs, she took a deep breath and instinctively allowed her heart to expand and move towards his. His expression changed to confusion, and one hand quickly reached to cover his heart. He felt it! But he took a step back.

  “Private, why—what are you doing here?”

  “I came for you,” she said.

  The Lieutenant Colonel slowly shook his head back and forth. “How did you get in here?” The hand stayed protectively on his chest.

  Carole took a step closer. “I jumped the fence.”

  A quick smile flashed across Ted White’s face. “You jumped a fifteen-foot security fence?” He laughed. “You’re a very good liar.”

  The voices took issue with that. “I’m not lying,” Carole said. Ted’s smile vanished.

  “You need to jump back out of here, because if you get caught—well—General Stanholt is itching for a reason—what I mean is you of all people cannot afford to step out of line.”

  “I had to see you.”

  Carole sensed Ted White’s pulse accelerate, hers kept pace. She stood so close she had to tip her head back slightly to look up at his face. He swallowed and took another small step backwards, bumping into the lounge chair and causing it to scrape against the concrete floor.

  “If you get caught in here, Private, I—no one will be able to protect you this time.”

  “Did you protect me last time?” she whispered, wondering. Ted’s hand still rested protectively over his heart. Carole put her hand on top his. His sudden intake of breath made her smile.

  “Please, Private.” Ted leaned into her touch, so close. “This is a restricted area.”

  “Is it?” Carole put her second hand in place over his chest. Their hearts together made it feel as though she floated. “I’ll take my chances.”

  Ted tilted his head, his lips neared. His eyes widened. They were an impossible shade of blue.

  “Oh, screw it,” he said. Grabbing Carole’s arms, he shoved her down onto the lounge chair.

  STANDING IN LINE for breakfast, Carole’s gaze roved over powdered eggs, toast greasy with margarine, and bacon vanishing quickly beneath the hands of men she barely noticed.

  “Go to him. Connect. Show him.” The voices were talking sense and everything had changed. The touch of a heart was not childhood’s remembered delusion. It had nothing to do with mental illness or drugs. Last night proved that, Ted proved that. Running a finger back and forth across her metal cafeteria tray she considered his heart, her heart, they were one now. “Almost,” the voices corrected.

  In time, she defended mentally. She couldn’t force that. You tried to force it last night, she chastised herself before the voices could. Remembering last night, goose bumps rose on her arms. She had taken what must be given last night, Ted’s body—or rather he’d taken hers. After my golden invitation…but he certainly didn’t mind. Carole had bruises to prove Ted had been an enthusiastic participant.

  “That proves nothing,” the voices argued.

  Carole glanced at the men surrounding her, piling far too much bacon on their plates and arguing about sports. The Special Ops teams were fairly honorable men, but if she caught any one of them alone and—hmmm. Had it meant no more than that to Ted?

  She moved down the cafeteria line, scooting her tray in front of her. Her boots pressed against her sore ankles and she thought about Ted’s impossible efforts to get her canvas pants over her tightly laced boots. Of course he wanted me physically, but I wanted him just as much! A face remembered from childhood drifted into her mind’s eye, Sister Mary Josephine lecturing about modesty, and the set of the Nun’s pointed chin when she pronounced the word hussy. A secret smile quirked Carole’s lips.

  Hairy hands dropped a big bowl on her tray, interrupting her thoughts. She looked at the metal mixing bowl full of oatmeal and covered in bits of mango. It took up the entire tray. A quart of milk appeared under her nose. Carole looked up into the face of the cook, a cigarette with an impossibly long ash dangled from the corner of his mouth. She accepted the milk, and he spoke without removing the cigarette, his voice gravelly.

  “There’s more if that’s not enough. That’s the biggest bowl we got.”

  Carole grinned at him, and glided to a table with her food, the set of Sister Mary Josephine’s chin still in mind.

  The special ops teams ate with precision, within twenty minutes Carole sat on her bench alone. She downed every bite of the clean food, and glanced at the standard government-issue clock on the wall. She had the ability to sense time to the nano-second, but staring at the over-sized timepiece filled a few seconds. All she had to do now was figure out a way to fill the next sixteen hours. That’s how long it would be before she could see Ted again. Subtracting the time it would take to consume lunch and dinner, she only needed to occupy fifteen and a half of those hours.

  Leaning over her empty bowl, she idly scraped the sides of it, remembering last night and wondering how dangerous it would be to breach the officer’s quarters in broad daylight. Ted had left rather abruptly. After realizing it’d been her first time, he’d sat on the edge of the broken lounge chair gaping awkwardly at her. He had walked away only to return, open his mouth wordlessly, close it again and finally nab his damp towel off the floor. He’d handed it to her, stared at the faint streaks of blood on her thighs, whispered, “I’m sorry,” and bolted.

  The sound of his bare feet padding across the damp floor had made her heart ache, but she’d managed not to cry until the door shut behind him. Yet they hadn’t been tears of sorrow. Blushing she kept her head over her bowl, certain that the cook watched her from across the room. Last night with Ted had been the best seven minutes of her life—so far. Ted was so—but despite what the voices said, their connection was much more than physical. Licking the last bit of oatmeal off the spoon she thought about the touch of his heart. It felt like she’d been hungry for years and found ripe fruit. No it felt like—a kiss—the kind of kiss you thought would be gross, but it wasn’t gross at all—it was exactly what you never knew you liked. Ted’s kisses were so—

  Hairy hands splayed on either side of the oatmeal bowl. Carole looked up into the knowing eyes of the grinning cook, her face flamed in embarrassment. She pulled the spoon out of her mouth with a pop.

  “I have never,” his cigarette still dangled and his eyes glinted with humor, “known anyone who likes oatmeal so much. Ain’t natural, but I’ll still respect you in the morning.”

  SLIPPING THROUGH THE glass door, Carole turned to twist the lock. A splash sounded from the direction of the pool and she raced across the length of the entryway, banging open the interior door. Ted’s dark head appeared at the edge of the pool, watching her cross the room.

  “You do realize this compound is considered impenetrable?” The sardonic tone made her laugh, and he added, “Don’t get cocky. I sneak into it myse
lf at least once a visit.” Ted swam closer, stopping where an underwater light lit his expression. He gazed up at her, his tone now serious, “Is one of the guards letting you through?”

  “Of course not! I go over the fence.”

  Jumping partially out of the water, Ted wrapped an arm around her legs and swept her into the pool, completely soaking her clothes and boots. Effortlessly treading water his hands slid under her thighs, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms automatically following around his neck. Full lips pressed against her forehead and nose, before finding her lips. Holding her securely he leisurely finished the kiss. It was exactly what she never knew she liked, and her heart seemed to liquefy.

  “I’m glad you came, but be warned, I have ways of making you talk,” he teased with an undercurrent of question in his tone. She knew he wanted to know how she got in. Security was his job.

  “I told you—” Carole considered then opted for outright honesty. She would never lie to him anyway. “I just jump the fence. The high jump is my—thing.” Without warning Ted plunged beneath the pool’s surface, taking her with him ten feet to the bottom, where he sat holding her in his lap. Carole leaned forward and kissed him, twin streams of tiny bubbles racing upwards. After several enthusiastic moments, Ted shot to the surface taking her with him. Sucking in a deep breath of air with a gasp, he tugged her along and swam to the side of the pool.

  Exertion punctuated his words. “I didn’t expect you’d come back tonight. I hoped you would—but I never expected you’d manage to sneak in twice.” Ted offered a hand up as Carole climbed out of the water, onto the edge of the swimming pool. He pushed himself up on strong arms and sat beside her on the rough concrete surface. Warm water cascaded off Carole’s soaking clothes, the smell of chlorine strong. Ted leaned close, water dripping off dark hair becoming rivulets over broad shoulders. His blue eyes searched hers. “Now I know how you got in. You swam through the water filtration system, because breathing is apparently optional for you.” He yanked off her dripping T-shirt and tossed it. It landed with a wet plop in the middle of the pool. “With lungs like yours you could have been an Olympic swimmer, but your country needed you.”

  Carole shook her head. “I just jumped the fence.”

  Ted touched her cheek, and kissed her mouth softly, his lips moving gently, tenderly over hers, slowly pushing her backwards using his mouth as leverage. He only abandoned her lips to crawl over her, briefly perusing her body before finally looking into her eyes.

  “You bribed the A-Shack guards—” he kissed the tip of her nose, “by promising to teach them your optional breathing trick.”

  “I really jumped the fence,” Carole insisted. Unbuttoning her pants, Ted yanked them down, taking everything. It took effort, and soaked cotton clung determinedly to legs still sore from yesterday’s attempts.

  He tugged the uncooperative trousers, continuing to hypothesize in a teasing tone. “You used some type of metal eating acid and burned a hole in the fence—after disabling the motion sensors.” Ted sat up and tugged harder, until Carole’s legs journeyed to rest on his lap. Shamelessly, she laughed at the futile attempt that produced only a tangled mess of wet canvas and cotton refusing to budge further than her knees.

  “Please take my boots off first!”

  Ted went to work on the waterlogged laces and resumed his interrogation. “Chemicals are dangerous, where’d you get them here?”

  “I jumped! Honestly!” she said.

  Ted pulled a boot off and held it over her, slowly emptying pool water onto her face. “Tell me.”

  “I told you!” She didn’t dodge the incoming water, and the answer came out half gargle. Chuckling, he tossed her boot into the middle of the pool, tugged her onto his lap and kissed her again, slow, drawn out kisses that made her stomach flip-flop. The kisses were delectable, but nothing could distract her from the touch of that heart turned playful. It romped in the periphery of her own heart, drawing her with a siren call. Carole pushed Ted onto his back, and crouched over him mock-complaining, “That boot will never dry in this humidity!”

  “Tell me how you got in or the other one heads for Davy Jones’s locker too.”

  “I told you—!” But Ted put a hand gently on the back of her head and pulled her close for another long kiss, and for several moments Carole lost contact with her limbs.

  “I warned you,” he said. Big arms reached around her middle and rolled her flat onto her back again. Playfully he turned his back on her, pretending to sit on her stomach while working on freeing the pants still dangling from a boot clad leg. “Last chance,” he intoned over his shoulder. “These are nice boots.”

  “I told you, I jumped! It’s the truth!” Carole laughed when he twisted around and emptied the water out of the last boot. She caught it in her mouth and spit it in a fine stream right back at him.

  “A worthy opponent!” he chuckled, blinking and shaking his head so that more water splayed over her. “But you have nothing left to negotiate with.” The splash of her boot was followed by the sound of her pants flung against the pool’s surface.

  “Neither do you now,” she pointed out.

  Ted tugged her to sit beside him at the pool’s edge. They rested with their legs dangling in the water. “I can’t remember what I wanted anymore anyway,” he said. In one smooth movement he slid his trunks off and flung them into the pool too, where they briefly floated on the surface of the water. Ted rested a heavy arm on her shoulders. A hand explored the back of her head, smoothing her unruly mess of hair. Rhythmic and soothing, it made her want to purr. “Actually, it’s coming back to me now,” he said.

  Carole leaned her head comfortably against a wide shoulder as the fingers played in her hair. The touch of his heart near hers felt expectant. It sat next to hers, side by side, like two lovers basking in the sun.

  “Hmm?”

  “What I wanted, it’s come back to me,” he said.

  “What do you want, Ted?” Her heart leapt hopefully.

  The hand moved to press gently against her torso, carefully avoiding her heart. Ted shoved her flat, although her legs still dangled in the water. “More,” he groaned, splaying his body over the length of her.

  THE SOUND OF an outside door clanged in the distance. “You forgot to lock the door?” Ted hissed, but the light of the emergency lights showed amusement dancing in his eyes. After nearly two weeks of nights spent together—totaling exactly 84.7 hours—Carole found herself as drawn to Ted’s good humor as to his heart.

  Completely naked with her bottom perched right inside a ceramic drinking fountain, Carole focused her mind further than her eyes could see. A guard pushed open the door to the pool area, not fifteen yards away. She froze, but Ted didn’t. Languorously he continued rocking against her. She closed her eyes and bit back a gasp. What is wrong with him? But oh! Nothing is wrong with him! She tightened her legs around him.

  On the far side of the room the guard crossed the floor, shoving chairs and lounges out of his way noisily. Good thing too because though Ted kept right on making love to her, a quiet chuckle sounded in her ear. Carole quickly clamped a hand over her lover’s mouth. It made Ted laugh harder. The guard started to whistle Yankee Doodle, and Ted shook not-quite-silently against her.

  The sound of a refrigerator hissed open, and the whistle morphed into the latest soft drink ditty about Dr. Pepper. Carole sensed him nab a soda, and then the refrigerator door slammed with a rattle of bottles and he shuffled back, shoving more pool furniture until he slammed through the door, and left.

  A few minutes later Ted finished and Carole climbed down from her perch, rubbing a spot that would surely bruise.

  “Why was that so funny? Aren’t you worried about General Stanholt anymore?”

  Ted kissed her forehead and grinned at her. “Sorry. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he was coming in for a drink from the water fountain.”

  Carole spun towards the east facing windows, her internal clock ale
rt. “Ted! It’s four-thirty!”

  His smile vanished. “You’ve got to be kidding! Where are your clothes? Wait, here’s my shirt, just wear this.” He tugged the big cotton shirt over her arms. “Cut through the brush along the beach. We have to stop staying this late. If you get caught I don’t know—just go!” He squeezed her bare shoulders gently before pulling the shirt over them, and kissed her, quickly buttoning the shirt for her while his lips danced over hers, scrambling her thoughts. “Tonight?”

  “Tonight.” Carole sensed half a dozen men outside the back door. She ran.

  MUSING OVER THEIR late night escapades Carole promised herself that she would keep better track of time. She’d barely made it back before the entire camp woke up. Every night they said they weren’t going to stay so late, that they had to stop risking discovery by the waking base. Yet every morning they each made a mad dash to get to their rooms unnoticed—every morning for two weeks. Carole grinned. They were both sleep-deprived. Bending, she examined a row of shells and sea glass filling the long windowsill in Ted’s tiny apartment. Sunlight glinted off smooth bits of glass, most of it shades of blues and greens. A few bits of frosty glass at the end of the row were yellow and khaki. The khaki reminded Carole she’d forgotten to return the shirt from Ted’s service uniform. At least she’d remembered her soaking wet boots after they’d spent twenty-four hours at the bottom of the pool. They still hadn’t dried. She wondered what had become of her trousers left in the pool. Running a finger over the piece of khaki glass, the exact same shade as Ted’s shirt, she shook her head in consternation. It wasn’t like her to forget anything. Forgetting to return the shirt was bad enough, but how did one forget their own pants? Or underwear?