bunch of women. And let me tell you, that’s not as easy as you might think, and—”
“And I’ll be living with my mate,” he cut her off with finality. “The woman I love.”
She drew in a breath, ready to argue, but let it out in a controlled sigh. “I’m not trying to put you down, but I don’t see how you can love me when you don’t know me.”
He left the bathroom doorway to stand close enough to her to comb his fingers through her wet, tangled hair. “We talked about this last night. When I first saw you in the Clan camp I was attracted to you because my wolf chose you to be my mate. You rejected me, but I’ve watched you since then. You’re brave.” He brushed his lips over her hair. “You’re strong.” His lips smoothed over her temple. “You put the other women first.” His lips settled over hers in a kiss so gentle she barely felt it. “Aren’t those reasons to love you?”
The blush that rose to her cheeks was hot. “Well, I guess so.”
He put a warm hand around the back of her neck. “And I hope that in time you’ll find things about me to love too.” Before she could answer, his fingers brushed through her hair. “I’ve always wanted to ask you why is your hair two inches shorter on this side. Was there an accident?”
She laughed, partly with relief that he was dropping the subject, and partly because nearly every man who had the guts to talk to her commented on her hair. “No! It’s the fashion. When I left the Corps I decided to let my hair make a statement. I was tired of always being the straight arrow; I wanted to be just a tiny bit rebellious.”
He bent and picked something up off the floor next to the bed. The weak early morning light gleamed on her earrings as they swung from his brown fingers. “Are these rebellious too?”
“My earrings!” Her hands flew unthinkingly to her earlobes. “How did they get on the floor?”
“You looked uncomfortable last night while you were sleeping, so I took them out. They’re pretty.”
“Yeah.” She took them and threaded them through her earlobes. How had she not noticed they were gone? Well, between making love with Des and the shower call this morning, her attention had been on other things, so maybe it wasn’t surprising.
“Are they special to you?” he asked.
She slowly lowered her hands, debating how much to say. “Yeah, they are. They were a gift from my fiancé before he died.” When his face closed, she hurried to reassure him. “He died years before the plane crashed. I loved him, and I still think of him, but it was a long time ago.”
“How did he die?”
Connie didn’t understand the need she had to comfort him. She stepped close enough to him to lay her still-wet head on his chest. “He was a fighter pilot too. His plane was shot down by insurgents. He didn’t survive the crash.”
His arms came around her. “He died in battle?”
“Yeah. Killed by the enemy in Iraq.”
“Did he die well?”
She nodded, a shadow of the old pain passing through her heart.
Des’ fingers were gentle when they brushed the chiming drops of little gems cascading from her lobes. “Then you should always wear these to honor him.”
Tears smarted her eyes. “Thank you, Des.”
He smiled down at her. “For what?”
“For not being a stupid, jealous git .”
“You loved him. He must have made you happy. I’m sorry you had to suffer pain when he died.”
She remembered her blind attempts to escape that pain through sex and alcohol. “I was stupid. I behaved badly after he died. But I learned eventually to be a better person because of it. I had to leave the Corps to do it, though, and that was hard for me. My dad was disappointed in me.” That had hurt almost as much as losing Paul. “He called me a quitter.”
His kiss was gentle. “I’m sorry he was disappointed in you. If he could see you now, he’d be proud of you.”
That made her want to cry, too. She sniffed hard. “I’m freezing. And
“And I’ll be living with my mate,” he cut her off with finality. “The woman I love.”
She drew in a breath, ready to argue, but let it out in a controlled sigh. “I’m not trying to put you down, but I don’t see how you can love me when you don’t know me.”
He left the bathroom doorway to stand close enough to her to comb his fingers through her wet, tangled hair. “We talked about this last night. When I first saw you in the Clan camp I was attracted to you because my wolf chose you to be my mate. You rejected me, but I’ve watched you since then. You’re brave.” He brushed his lips over her hair. “You’re strong.” His lips smoothed over her temple. “You put the other women first.” His lips settled over hers in a kiss so gentle she barely felt it. “Aren’t those reasons to love you?”
The blush that rose to her cheeks was hot. “Well, I guess so.”
He put a warm hand around the back of her neck. “And I hope that in time you’ll find things about me to love too.” Before she could answer, his fingers brushed through her hair. “I’ve always wanted to ask you why is your hair two inches shorter on this side. Was there an accident?”
She laughed, partly with relief that he was dropping the subject, and partly because nearly every man who had the guts to talk to her commented on her hair. “No! It’s the fashion. When I left the Corps I decided to let my hair make a statement. I was tired of always being the straight arrow; I wanted to be just a tiny bit rebellious.”
He bent and picked something up off the floor next to the bed. The weak early morning light gleamed on her earrings as they swung from his brown fingers. “Are these rebellious too?”
“My earrings!” Her hands flew unthinkingly to her earlobes. “How did they get on the floor?”
“You looked uncomfortable last night while you were sleeping, so I took them out. They’re pretty.”
“Yeah.” She took them and threaded them through her earlobes. How had she not noticed they were gone? Well, between making love with Des and the shower call this morning, her attention had been on other things, so maybe it wasn’t surprising.
“Are they special to you?” he asked.
She slowly lowered her hands, debating how much to say. “Yeah, they are. They were a gift from my fiancé before he died.” When his face closed, she hurried to reassure him. “He died years before the plane crashed. I loved him, and I still think of him, but it was a long time ago.”
“How did he die?”
Connie didn’t understand the need she had to comfort him. She stepped close enough to him to lay her still-wet head on his chest. “He was a fighter pilot too. His plane was shot down by insurgents. He didn’t survive the crash.”
His arms came around her. “He died in battle?”
“Yeah. Killed by the enemy in Iraq.”
“Did he die well?”
She nodded, a shadow of the old pain passing through her heart.
Des’ fingers were gentle when they brushed the chiming drops of little gems cascading from her lobes. “Then you should always wear these to honor him.”
Tears smarted her eyes. “Thank you, Des.”
He smiled down at her. “For what?”
“For not being a stupid, jealous git .”
“You loved him. He must have made you happy. I’m sorry you had to suffer pain when he died.”
She remembered her blind attempts to escape that pain through sex and alcohol. “I was stupid. I behaved badly after he died. But I learned eventually to be a better person because of it. I had to leave the Corps to do it, though, and that was hard for me. My dad was disappointed in me.” That had hurt almost as much as losing Paul. “He called me a quitter.”
His kiss was gentle. “I’m sorry he was disappointed in you. If he could see you now, he’d be proud of you.”
That made her want to cry, too. She sniffed hard. “I’m freezing. And
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