Broken Soldier: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

waited.
    She took a sip of her port, then set her hand on his knee.
    #

    His left leg was granite-hard, and when he shifted toward her, she could feel the muscles move. It felt like something out of a scifi novel. Liquid steel.
    He set his hand on hers and squeezed. “I think...”
    Emily turned her head up, looked into his eyes again. His face moved forward, and their lips collided. The world dissolved down to that one connection, so warm and soft.
    His kisses came gently at first, but soon his urgency grew to match her need. His stubble rubbed her chin, rough and manly and pure sex. Their tongues fought a pitched battle between their lips. Emily pulled away gasping and laughing.
    “You don’t kiss fairly!”
    Rafa looked at her with a mixture of shock and desire. He pushed his hair from his eyes. “You don’t either.”
    “I can see where this is leading.” She threw herself at him, catching him by surprise and bearing him down onto the couch. She laid across him, her body pressed tight to his, and planted another kiss on his lips. One of his legs slid between hers, and they snuggled closer together, intertwined.
    He tucked one arm behind her back, holding her to him. The other traced over her flank, her hip, feeling her curves. Her dress rode up, exposing her thigh, but she didn’t care. Every inch of skin he touched burned, and her desire increased with the flames. Their tongues warred, hot and sweet. He tasted of coffee and alcohol and man.
    She broke the connection between their lips again.
    “What’s wrong?” he asked.
    “Nothing’s wrong. Well,” she smiled, “other than you still having clothes on.”
    His surprised twisted into a smile. “Then perhaps you should do something about that.”
    Emily tugged at his shirt, lifting it over his head. What she found surprised her, even though she knew it would be there. The whole right side of his chest was covered in a mass of puckered red scars. She reached out tenderly, stroking him.
    “Do they hurt?”
    “Not right now.” His hand caressed her hip, tugged lightly on her dress, lifting it an inch.
    “You first.” She moved to his waist, unhooking his belt and unzipping his zipper. He worked with her, lifting his hips to let her slide his slacks down. Again, she knew what to expect, but was still unprepared. Even in his boxers, she could see the scars working their way down his leg until the wounds and the leg both ended at a prosthetic cup just below the knee. A long metal rod extended from the cup and ended with a metal foot.
    Rafa flinched away from her gaze, and she had a feeling that no woman--at least no woman outside a medical setting--had seen him like this. She could imagine that he must feel vulnerable, and everything within her yearned to hold him and to protect and to love him. She stroked his thigh, felt his trembles.
    “You’re beautiful, you know,” she told him.
    “I think I’m supposed to say that to you,” he replied.
    “Maybe. But right now, I think you need to hear it more. Never, ever think that you’re less of a man because of this.” Emily took his hand and led him toward the bedroom.

Chapter 8

    Y
    OU'RE glowing,” Christa said.

    “I’m just sweaty.” Emily plucked a hand towel from her gym bag and wiped her forehead.
    “Nope, you’re glowing. I take it the second date went well?”
    “Extremely well.”
    They were at the base of the trail again, at the end of a 10k jog. Rafa had helped her look for cars earlier in the afternoon, then dropped her off at Christa’s. Emily took a long swallow of water.
    “How are you doing?” Christ asked. “I mean with Scott and all?”
    “I’m good, Chrissy. Better than I thought.” Emily looked off toward the mountains. The first good snowfall of the season had fallen on the high peaks, and they glistened white and pure. “Scott would have wanted me to be happy. I loved him. You know that. He knew that. And I... I think I’m ready now. I’ve taken the time to mourn