Her Survivor: A Black Eagle Ops Novel by Vonnie Davis

Author:Vonnie Davis [Davis, Vonnie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2016-07-18T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Kelcee balked at the carved wooden hostess’s stand in Marcel V’s. String music played softly around whispered conversations. The scent of fresh roses wafted through air that flickered with candlelight. A champagne cork popped. “Dustin…I don’t know that I belong here. This looks very high class.”

His wide hand went to the small of her back and he inclined his head to her ear. “My lady is very high class. We both belong here. You taught me my scars don’t matter. We’ll enjoy our evening together. Warning: If it gets too bad for me, I’ll be out in the parking lot. But I need to face my demons. I need to make some progress with this PTSD thing, no matter how long it takes me.”

She nodded, and they followed the hostess to their table. Dustin was right. They did belong wherever they wanted to go. She had to step out of her safe zone of Warrior Falls from time to time. Whereas, he’d bled for his country and deserved respect of Americans here at home, regardless of his scars.

Just as the hostess went to pull out a chair for Kelcee, Dustin extended a hand. “No need, ma’am. I’ll take care of my woman.” He held the chair for her.

The hostess smiled at Kelcee. “Lucky lady.”

She reached back and covered Dustin’s hand with hers. “Yes, I am. Very.”

Over dinner and candlelight, they talked about their families. There were questions Dustin asked that she answered vaguely. In response, his eyebrows furrowed. “Are your parents still living?”

Were they? She had no way of knowing. No one she could safely call to find out. She’d been ordered not to contact anyone from her former life. Tears filled her eyes and she tried her best to blink them away. In the dark of night in her aloneness, she often thought of never seeing or speaking to her parents or younger sister ever again. The pain always crushed her chest and made her cry. She couldn’t experience the same depth of emotion here in public with Dustin.

He took her hand, his thumb stroking her fingers. “Kitten, what is it?”

She wanted to tell him, wanted to in the worst kind of way, but she was under orders not to reveal her past. She swiped falling tears from her cheeks and lifted her wineglass. After a few sips, she grasped his hand. “There’s no one I trust more than you. Keeping my secrets from you is becoming harder and harder, but—” She locked her gaze with his. “I’m under a form of legal restriction, just as SEALs don’t talk about most of their missions.”

A slow tune started and Dustin stood. “Let’s dance. You need to be held and I need to see if I can keep off your feet.” He took her hand, strong and sure, and led her to the small dance floor.

Her arms swept up to his shoulders and around to the back of his neck. He held her close and made small steps, swaying back and forth.

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