The Sergeant's Baby. Bonnie Gardner
had looked down into Ally’s dark gray eyes and saw fear. Her heart had beat frantically against him as he pressed her to his chest. She’d balled her fists, but she hadn’t struggled. He hated that he’d made her afraid, and he had to try to assure her that he had no evil intent. But, how the hell did he do that? If he tried to explain, she’d only argue with him. Ally had always been so much better with words than he was.
So Danny had done the one thing he’d wanted to do all along. He drew her closer, tipped her face up to his and kissed her. His intent had been simply to drop a kiss on her lips and leave, but he quickly discovered that one kiss was not enough.
Trying not to be too demanding, he went back for more. Her mouth, which at first had been so unyielding, softened beneath his lips. She returned the kiss, tentatively at first, then with more confidence. Her velvety lips parted to let him in, and he felt more than heard her moan of pleasure.
When she wrapped her arms around him and began to play with the hair at his nape, he knew he’d won, hollow victory that it was.
He also knew that if he kept at this, he’d want to take her to bed. As much as he ached for her, he had to stop this now. She was no longer his, and he had no right to her. Even if he planned to do everything he could to make her his again.
In the meantime, they had to think rationally. And he was well aware that when they were in bed together, they never did much thinking.
He jerked away from her, and was rewarded by the look of confusion in Ally’s eyes. “I just wanted to feel you in my arms again, Ally. I didn’t mean to force myself on you. I’ll go, but remember this. We’re not done.”
He yanked open the door and strode down the tidy little walk to his car. Danny knew he’d be lost if he looked back, so he kept his gaze trained forward. He climbed into the car, started the engine and drove away.
But not without regrets.
Lots of regrets.
ALLY STOOD INSIDE the door, her hand to her kiss-swollen lips, and wondered what had just happened. That Danny had kissed her like that wasn’t a surprise, not really. He’d always been a take-charge man, and he was used to getting what he wanted.
Except for her.
He was a wonderful kisser, and though she’d tried, Ally hadn’t been able to forget the way she’d always felt in his arms.
Still, the passion of her response had shocked her. They had been apart so long. Why wasn’t she over him? She had thought that she’d been so rational with her plan to raise the child alone. She had thought that she had it all figured out.
However, almost the minute she was alone with Danny, she’d fallen into his arms. She hadn’t wanted to show Danny how she still felt about him, but now she was pretty sure he did.
She might have been able to lie to him from across the room, she thought as she leaned against the door, but the moment he’d touched her, her body had given her away. Danny had always been able to read her, and she’d all but given him the encyclopedia.
It was a pretty darn big, wonderful kiss, and she’d enjoyed every moment of it. Until Danny had pushed her away.
Ally turned the lock on the front door and it snicked shut, then she wandered toward her bedroom, vaguely remembering to put out the lights as she went. She had too much to process, too much to work through, to consider details like shutting down the house for the night. Fortunately, her body worked on automatic and took care of the mundane tasks.
As much as she’d claimed to be an independent woman, the prospect of raising this child alone—Danny’s child, she reminded herself—terrified her. She might have claimed that she wanted to be thoroughly modern and thoroughly independent, but she didn’t. She wanted a home, a husband, a family and a career. And most of all, she wanted Danny to be part of her—no, their—child’s life.
Now she just had to figure out how to make it happen.
AS HE DROVE through the dark and unfamiliar streets, Danny Murphey had time to think. Time to work things out in his head—something that he usually didn’t do. He was, after all, a man of action, of impulse, and it was obvious that he would have to proceed with cool, calm deliberation.
He had to win Ally back. Had to convince her that he was willing to give a little if she would. If she would, he could take a lot. He wasn’t used to compromising, but he could if it meant that he and Ally would be together in the end.
Danny was pretty sure that just telling Ally that he might compromise wouldn’t do the trick. He’d have to show her.
Lucky for him, he had this time on temporary duty here to make his case.
A SHINY, RED APPLE SAT in a prominent position on her desk when she came into the classroom, and Ally didn’t need an FBI investigation to know who had left it there. Danny Murphey was already in his seat, head bent over his textbook, and he was acting just like a little boy who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
He looked up and smiled at her with the same angelic expression that had first attracted her to him over two years ago, and Ally couldn’t help smiling back.
Maybe they would be able to make it through the day without incident. If Danny behaved and didn’t start her heart racing. As if reading her mind, Danny winked at her.
“Good morning, Miss Carter,” he said in a childish singsong as a few more members of the class filed in.
Though she tried not to, Ally laughed, and it felt good. More surprising, she discovered that the little gesture had already brightened her day.
Allison cleared her throat, wiped her hands on the skirt of her business-appropriate suit and called the class to order. “Today’s lesson will focus on local traditions in some of the areas you will be serving,” she told them. “Although the women are no longer required to wear the tentlike burkhas you probably remember seeing on the television news, they are required by law to maintain a strict code of modesty, and many older women do still feel more comfortable being covered up.
“I guess old habits are hard to break,” she said with a smile, thinking about the handsome, redhaired man leaning back in his chair in the third row, apparently trying to be unobtrusive.
“Not only that,” she continued, “in many countries a woman is not permitted to go out alone or speak to a man who is not a member of her family if she is not properly chaperoned. Even something as innocent as a handshake with someone of the opposite sex is not permitted.”
She glanced around the classroom and waited for the information to sink in. Ally suspected that most of her students already knew this, but the next bit of information she would deliver would probably be new. “Moreover, it would be considered in our best interest to observe their customs, not try to inflict ours on them.”
An eager female lieutenant, blond and blue-eyed—and a service academy graduate, Ally knew from her paperwork—raised her hand. “Excuse me, Ms. Carter. Does that mean we should avoid speaking to the natives?”
“They’re not ‘natives,’ Lieutenant. You may call them locals or indigenous people, but let’s give them the same respect you would expect.
“In answer to your question, Lieutenant, yes. Especially refrain from man-woman exchanges. In fact, try to avoid contact with the locals unless absolutely necessary,” Ally added. “Let me also mention—and you need to remember this—that you must take care not to appear in public without a male escort.”
The lieutenant raised her hand again and, without waiting to be called on, blurted, “But we’re not members of their society, and I’m not about to start kow-towing to men and walking three steps behind.” She looked as though she wanted to say more, but Ally stopped her by holding up her hand.
“Relations with some of these countries are quite strained, Lieutenant Abernathy. We must be certain not to do anything that might jeopardize our mission there. Have you heard the expression ‘When in Rome, do