Stranded With Ella by Shelley Munro

Author:Shelley Munro [Munro, Shelley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary romance, military romance, romantic suspense
Publisher: Shelley Munro
Published: 2019-08-17T16:00:00+00:00

9 – Things Start To Make Sense

Dillon slipped into the bed cautiously, thankful that Ella had a large version rather than a single. He could’ve slept on the couch or in her spare room, but something drove him to seek her comfort. Normally, sharing a bed with a woman meant sex, but with Ella, the need for closeness drove him. Which made no sense, but he was a man who listened to his gut instincts. They’d saved him more than once.

“Dillon?”

“If it’s someone else, we’re in trouble.”

“Cold.”

She scooched nearer and wound around him like a clinging vine. Her bare breasts pressed against his chest while her limbs entwined with his.

She yawned. “Thought I could do sex. Later. So tired.”

The coolness of her flesh did little to calm the burst of desire that grabbed him by the balls when she crooned the word sex. Tension slid through his arms, and in self-defense, he ran through the steps of his upcoming mission. Huh! His mind automatically turned soldier on him. Even though he’d tossed a few ideas around his mind, he still hadn’t decided on the best course of action. He’d discuss it with Nikolai. If his brother-in-law suggested he report this to the police and step away, he’d follow the advice.

His mother’s adage about borrowing trouble held wisdom.

With that decision made, he could no longer distract himself from the woman in his arms. She’d fallen asleep and her small, puffing breaths tickled his chest. A smile curved his lips as satisfaction settled over him. He closed his own eyes and relaxed.

On the edge of dropping into slumber, the whisper of his name dragged him back to wakefulness.

“Dillon.”

The hairs on his arms stood to attention.

“Dillon.”

Crap. He slipped from the bed and tiptoed to the kitchen. While he waited for something to happen, he poured himself a glass of water. He sipped, his gaze prowling the darkness. Impatience stalked him. He was a practical man who preferred control. He understood the things in front of his face.

This was beyond his pay grade.

“I can’t believe this. If that is you, Hana, you need to stop harassing Ella. Why are you hanging around here? Dammit, you’re one of the good ones. A saint, and you sure as hell didn’t deserve to die alone in the house. I’m so sorry. I assumed you’d be safe.” Dillon paused his throat tight. He moistened his mouth with the water. It didn’t help.

He lost track of how long he stood in the dark kitchen, waiting for something, anything to happen.

Hana’s excitement and enthusiasm had made him laugh. A fresh start in a place that didn’t have war and people didn’t go around brandishing guns. A safe home. It was all Hana had wanted.

Epic fuckin’ fail.

Seven months after her arrival, she’d been dead.

Despite modern communication, he hadn’t received the news for almost three weeks. Too late to attend her funeral. And worse, she’d died alone. The reports he’d read and a chat to the local cops told him she hadn’t gone easy.

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