The Reunion Mission. Beth Cornelison

The Reunion Mission - Beth Cornelison


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man has a job to do, and our hosts are waiting.”

      Facing Daniel, she squeezed his hand and gave him a lopsided smile of regret. “It was wonderful seeing you again, Daniel.”

      He returned a polite smile. Don’t leave. “You, too, Nicole.” Then to the senator, “Sir.”

      The senator met his gaze with a hard look that darted to Daniel’s rank insignia on his uniform. “Lieutenant.”

      The senator’s tone carried a warning, a reminder of Daniel’s place and the social gap between a boy from the bayou and the senator’s well-bred daughter. As if Daniel needed reminding. Though he was proud of his Cajun roots, he was always striving to be better than the next guy—at basic training, in the classroom, in operations—trying to prove his detractors wrong, silencing those who singled him out or who bought into erroneous stereotypes regarding his heritage.

      Nicole squeezed his hand before she released it and flashed a rueful smile as her father grasped her elbow and led her inside.

      With a cleansing breath, he resumed his watch, shoulders back and hands clasped behind him. Though he stood at rigid attention, his mind writhed with a tangle of emotions.

      He’d accomplished what he’d set out to do tonight. He’d seen Nicole again. But, in light of the tumult inside him, coming tonight might have been a mistake.

      Nicole needed air. Shoving her way through the crowded dance floor, she hurried to the front porch and gripped the railing as another shudder of disgust rippled through her. All evening she’d put up with the leering glances her father not to notice, but when the president of the Chamber of Commerce squeezed her bottom on the dance floor, she’d had enough. She’d bet her father’s fortune that his “friends” never treated her mother with such disrespect.

      Thoughts of her mother, stolen from her by cancer just four months ago, brought moisture to Nicole’s eyes. She cast a longing gaze toward the parked cars, wishing she didn’t have to endure the party any longer, and she spotted the white dress uniform and broad shoulders that had sent her pulse racing earlier that evening.

      A smile ghosted across her lips. Daniel LeCroix. She wasn’t surprised he’d joined the armed forces. Even in her brief association with him on prom night five years ago, she’d seen his valor, his kindness, his integrity. When her date hadn’t deigned to get his hands dirty to retrieve the stranded kitten, when her friends had all abandoned her for “wasting time” on the rescue, only Daniel had stayed behind to help her instead of going to the dance. Daniel had ruined his rented tux moving the sewer grate and climbing into the drainage pipes, then had walked her and her new pet home. And left an indelible mark on her heart.

      Nicole couldn’t help but wonder how different tonight would have been if he’d been her escort instead of her father.

      The night’s not over. Her breath stilled. Ditching her father in favor of Daniel would be waving a red flag in her father’s face. He’d never forgive her for the snub and the damage to his well-crafted public image.

      But had her father respected her feelings when she’d complained about his friends’ untoward advances? A flash of anger spiraled through her. How long was she supposed to put her life on hold to be her father’s PR darling? She was already a year behind her class in nursing school because of his last election campaign and months of filling her mother’s shoes as his companion at high-profile events and parties. As as she loved her father, she just didn’t want the high-society lifestyle he thrived on.

      Inside, the orchestra began playing the ballad from a popular Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, and Nicole sighed. Fixing her gaze on Daniel, she crossed the porch and approached him. “Dance with me?”

      He cut a startled glance her direction. “Nicole.” His gaze shifted behind her, obviously noting that she was alone. “Why aren’t you inside?”

      “I needed a breather. Too much hot air in there.” She twitched a grin and hitched her head toward the party. Stepping closer to him, she held out her hand. “So will you dance with me? This is one of my favorite songs.”

      His gaze locked on hers, his regret obvious. “I can’t. I’m on duty.”

      She moved close enough to slide her hand along the polished buttons of his dress whites. She could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers, and the life-affirming cadence struck her as powerfully virile and maddeningly sexy. “Just one dance. No one will know or care if you just danced this one song with me.” She slid her arms around his neck and twined her fingers in the close-cropped hair at his nape. “Please.”

      His mental battle played across his face, the tug-of-war between duty and desire. “Nicole …” Closing his eyes, he settled a hand at her waist and halfheartedly tried to push her away.

      Suddenly the idea of losing this opportunity to dance with Daniel, because of the rules of his job, or her father’s code of conduct, or any other stuffy social convention or arbitrary legal dictate, made her want to scream. She fisted her hand in the back of his dress coat and refused to be budged. Tears of frustration and rebellion puddled in her eyes, and she raised her chin to meet his gaze.

      “Screw the rules, Daniel. I want to dance with you.”

      His dark eyes narrowed on her, and hands that had pushed her away now touched the bare skin exposed by the low cut in the back of her dress. The warmth of his fingers against her night-chilled skin spun a delicious tingle from her head to her toes. A groan rumbled in his throat as he flattened his palm at the small of her back and drew her close.

      A tremor of anticipation spun through her when she aligned her body with his. The stiff creases of his uniform and the sensual play of his muscles tantalized her through her sheer dress. Resting her cheek on his shoulder, she melted in his arms, moving with him when he swayed and shifted his feet in a slow dance. The tension that had pounded at her temples slipped away as he held her, and Nicole could almost pretend they were alone, the only two people in this corner of the world.

      Daniel skimmed a hand up her spine, sending sparks of shimmery heat through her blood. When he reached her nape, his thumb caressed her sensitized skin with lazy, hypnotic strokes.

      “You know,” he murmured, his deep voice a low, sexy rumble, “I always kind of regretted that we didn’t make it to prom that night. I’d been hoping I’d have the chance to dance with you.”

      She smiled and curled her fingers in the fabric of his dress coat. “Then this dance was long overdue.”

      He drew a slow deep breath, then let it out on a hum of pleasure. “And worth the wait.”

      “Agreed.” She snuggled closer, inhaling the crisp scent of soap that clung to him. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. But all too soon the ballad ended and a faster song began. Daniel stopped dancing, but he didn’t step back right away. He didn’t have to tell her he was thinking about his guard duty, the rules he’d already broken for her.

      Nicole mentally scrambled for a way to extend the precious minutes she’d had in his arms. She wasn’t ready to say good-night to the thoughtful Daniel she’d gotten to know on her prom night, the honorable soldier concerned tonight for his duty, the sexy man whose touch made her feel thoroughly feminine and on fire.

      “I should—”

      “Be my date tonight,” she interrupted. Lifting her head, she met his dark gaze and gripped his arms to keep him from moving away. Hoping she sounded enticing and impulsive rather than desperate, she flashed a grin. “Come inside with me, and we can spend the rest of the night dancing.”

      His expression dimmed. “I can’t leave my post. Not until my replacement arrives at midnight.”

      Hope swelled in her chest. “What if someone else covered your post until then? Robert, our chauffeur, is trained in security and often works protection detail for my father.” She reached in his front coat pocket, pulled out the cell phone she’d felt there while they danced and dialed.

      Daniel


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