No Other Love (To Serve and Protect Book 4) by Kathryn Shay

Author:Kathryn Shay [Shay, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ocean View Books
Published: 2017-09-11T18:30:00+00:00

Despite Whitney’s assurances that the Secret Service would capture and question Vittorino if he was still in the U.S., Calla was frightened all day. She took a walk with Connor, but was unable to enjoy the scent of the earth springing up around them. She’d asked the agents to follow them. That night, she and Connor watched television and ate pizza for dinner that the Secret Service brought in. When she was fatigued enough to go to bed, Connor went to his room and changed into pajama bottoms and a T-shirt and then headed to Calla. He knocked on her door, and she opened it right away.

She’d dressed in a deep purple satiny slip of a thing. “I was hoping you’d come.”

“I’m here. And I’ll hold you all night so you’re not scared anymore.”

As if they’d been doing this all their lives, he climbed into a real bed next to her, turned off the light, and drew her close. She knew he didn’t want this, but Connor was unselfish to a fault. And stronger than she was. So she settled in with him.

They awoke simultaneously. They always did when they slept together in Syria. Calla watched him as he greeted the world. Despite the horrors of their situation, he’d always come out of sleep with a smile. Now he didn’t. Instead a hooded expression claimed his face. He’d been through hell since she’d left him but the soldier’s death would be the most intolerable to him.

“What are you thinking?” he asked. She was still in his arms, looking up at him.

“You don’t wake up smiling anymore.”

“No? I didn’t realize that. Life has been tough, I guess.”

“Do you want to tell me about the soldier?”

“God no. Let me get us coffee and we’ll talk about something safe.”

After he left, Calla sat against the headboard, blocking out their situation, blocking out the soldier. Blocking out everything but the scent of Connor, which lingered on the pillow she brought to her face.

When he returned, the pungent smell of coffee preceded him. His hair was mussed, she saw now, but his face was less sad. She propped herself up and took the steaming cup. He joined her, carrying his own mug. “You’re drinking my coffee.”

“Yeah. I like it, now, even if it is black as night.” He smiled. The first real one he gave her since she came back to the U.S. “Whitney couldn’t believe I could drink this. I always spiked mine with half sugar.”

Calla didn’t say anything. He said he didn’t want to talk about his family.

“She’s, um, had a rough time, starting when you met me in D.C.”

“I’m sorry. I must have compounded your troubles. I should never have fled to the States, Connor. You wouldn’t be in danger.”

“Calla, you couldn’t live with that man any longer. Though I hate your father for not protecting you.”

She didn’t respond.

“In a way, being there for Whitney helped me.” He explained about Max breaking their relationship off, Whitney’s devastation, her pregnancy and miscarriage.

“Oh, God, those poor people.

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