Home for a Soldier by Tatiana March Page A

realize you were here.”
    “I thought you were a burglar. I
almost called the cops.”
    “It’s my fault.” He eased one arm
from around her and smoothed her hair back from her face. “I should have called,
but by the time I decided to fly out, it was past midnight your time.”
    Desperately trying to rein in her
rioting emotions, Grace leaned around his broad shoulders. “I thought this was a
cleaning closet.”
    Rory moved aside to let her inspect
the cramped space. “I’ve used this room for the past ten years while I’ve been
in the Army. It’s mostly for storage, but sometimes I’ve stayed here for a few
weeks. There’s a small bathroom through the sliding door.” He released her and
raised his hands to scrub his face. “I need to get some sleep. Will you be here
when I wake up?”
    Grace hesitated. “I could get out of
your way. Go back to Jersey City. I don’t have to move out until the end of the
month.”
    “No need.” Rory shifted on his feet,
appearing awkward. “In fact, it’s useful if you’re around. I can show you how
everything works.”
    “I’ll leave you to take your shower.”
With an uneasy shrug, Grace retreated into the hall, closing the door between
them.
    Back in her room, she sank to sit on
the edge of the bed. Dear God, please bring Rory back to me , she had
prayed last night. Never before had God paid such prompt attention to her
wishes, but He had played a joke on her by making their interaction strained.
Like an encounter between two strangers.
    One night stand. That was all her
marriage had been, judging by how Rory had bundled her back into the hall,
instead of tearing off her clothes and throwing her on the bed, declaring that
he had flown across the country to be with her.
    She was in love with him. The fact hit her, warm and all enveloping, like a blast of air that surges over
the platform as a subway train hurtles out of a tunnel. To her surprise, the
admission made her feel better, cleared the confusion in her mind. She wanted
Rory to be in love with her too.
    Grace filled her lungs and blew out a
determined sigh.
    Three days. That’s how long she had
to make him care.
    * * * *
    Rory clicked the mouse to dispatch
another change to his flight reservation. He was used to plans altering without
notice, but this time the uncertainty rattled his nerves. He’d slept until
midday. Then he had taken a stroll to the deli two blocks down to stock up with
the basics. In the refrigerator, he found nothing except a big tub of yogurt,
but the pan on the draining board and the broken shells in the trash told him
Grace had cooked eggs for breakfast.
    The thought of her puttering about
the apartment while he slept through the morning hours stirred an odd wave of
contentment inside him.
    Forget it. Rory clenched his jaws as he recalled the careless words of his wedding speech.
“ Will you wait at home for me, Grace? ” he had asked in a moment of
madness. He could offer her nothing, and he sure as hell didn’t expect a woman
to spend the next two years pining after him. He had steered clear of love for
ten years. He would find a way to manage two more days.
    He waited, until he heard Grace at
the front door, and then he drifted into the hall. “My schedule’s changed
again,” he informed her. “I’m flying out on Thursday.”
    “Thursday?” she cried, her eyes
widening in alarm. Her skin glowed from the crisp winter air, and snowflakes
glinted in her straight sandy hair.
    He barely conquered the urge to scoop
her close and bury his face in the crook of her neck, so he could breathe in the
feminine scent that always lingered around her. It had been madness to come to
New York. His muscles tensed as he resolved to keep away from her. That was the
sensible thing to do, for them both. “It’s only one day earlier, Grace,” he
muttered.
    “I know—but—” She adjusted the tote
on her shoulder and juggled the straining