A Soldier's Woman
Print ISBN: 9781897559451
About the book:
It would take a very special soldier to overcome Megan Ryan’s distrust of all things military. A fallen officer’s daughter, she has become right-hand woman a Davidson’s Machine and Tool, a family business in deep financial trouble. With the changing of the guard, Michael Davidson becomes its only hope. He is a career soldier, a sergeant in the elite SAS, living dangerously, always at the spear point.
They must join forces in a desperate battle to save the company, carrying them to Singapore, and the all-powerful Lim family.. It is there that Megan learns just how much is at stake.
...
Showering with a lover isn't a pastime to be hurried, Megan decided, running her hands over the planes of Michael's back as they stood face to face, each soaping the other's body. She'd prefer a proper shower recess in future, rather than a showerhead above the bath, but they were managing, even if Michael's bathroom would be a total mess when they finished.
Michael worked the suds around Megan's shoulders and down to the upper slopes of her breasts and she shuddered deliciously as his fingers brushed nipples achingly sensitive to his touch. Her breasts felt fuller, her whole body charged with energy, every sense acute to the point of near pain. It felt wonderful. She locked her hands in the small of his back and pulled their bodies into an embrace that melted her flesh into his, as if they were two souls within a single casing of skin. The hollow at the base of his throat was directly in her line of sight so she tilted her head to the right and used her tongue to dry it of moisture. She could taste the salt of his sweat, not yet diluted by the shower water, and she savored it hungrily.
He bowed his head to take the lobe of her left ear into his mouth and his teeth closed on it very gently, making her shiver with ecstasy, amazed so mundane an act could affect her so powerfully. It seemed so unfair she could find no way to repay him. She knew there must be something, some act of love that she was just too ignorant of a man's body to know.
"How can I please you?" she pleaded. "I want to please you."
Michael stopped nibbling at her ear lobe and leaned back to look at her, his face an exaggerated mixture of surprise and concern. "I've never been asked that before. Does this mean I'm supposed to enjoy myself as well?"
Megan dug him sharply in the ribs. "I'm serious," she warned.
"Obviously, we can't have that. A serious woman is a worrying thing."
She sighed and gave up. It'd been foolish to ask.
The sigh achieved a result and he responded when she'd given up.
"Megan, I simply don't know how you could please me more than just allowing me to be with you like this. Be yourself, that's all I'll ever ask of you." She detected a disturbing sense of sadness in his tone, as if he did not expect the happiness of the moment to last. But it vanished and he grinned at her mischievously. "On the other hand," he qualified, "Perhaps I should think about it. I'm sure if I study the Kama Sutra and other learned texts, there'll be some very athletic and improbably gymnastic feat I could ask you to perform."
Megan dug him gently in the ribs again, but he ruined her fun by kissing her and she forgot everything else to concentrate on kissing him back. His response came close to precipitating an "improbably gymnastic feat" in the confines of the bath.
