Married To A Marine

He gave her one of those aggravated looks men give women they don’t understand. “I’ll tell you what’s behind it, the fact that I want you out of here.”

“So you’ve said. We’ll talk about it in the morning, if you’d rather.” She started cleaning up after their meal, taking their dirty bowls to the kitchen sink and running the water.

“I’d rather you were gone.”

Thunder boomed one final time, rattling the windowpanes with its bass reverberations. Despite the rumblings, the storm was actually weakening. Just like Justice. He was rumbling like the thunder, but it was more bark than bite. “You’re starting to sound like a broken record, Justice.”

“I can’t figure out why you’d want to stay somewhere you’re not wanted.”

“Besides being a glutton for punishment, you mean?” She squirted dishwashing liquid into the sink. There was a dishwasher, but she felt the need to scrub. “I’ve already told you, your mother asked me to come check on you.”

“So now you’ve checked. I’m still alive.”

“Have you called her on your cell phone yet?”

“What are you, my keeper?” His voice was really irritated now.

She turned to face him directly as she issued her challenge. “I thought Marines didn’t need keepers.”

He automatically straightened. “We don’t.”

“Then act like it, and call your mother.”

Justice looked like he wanted to strangle her, before he pivoted and marched out of the room to what she presumed was the only bedroom. The fact that he didn’t slam the door but instead closed it with controlled precision didn’t fool her for one second. The man was furious with her.

Kelly paused in her nervous tidying to sink onto a nearby kitchen chair. Okay, so maybe Justice wasn’t weakening like the departing storm. Maybe she’d been a little overconfident thinking she had things under control.

Only one bed…

His words kept replaying in her mind as she quickly took stock of her surroundings. The living room she’d walked through had a gorgeous pine floor but little furniture aside from the neutral-colored couch. The kitchen was equally no-frill. There was no particular color scheme, the walls were white as was the woodwork. The bathroom was at the end of the hallway, right next to the bedroom with its one bed.

She could easily picture Justice on that bed, his lean fighter’s body tangled in satin sheets….

Rats. Only in the beach house for an hour and already she was having sexual fantasies about Justice. Not good.

Time to remind herself yet again why she was here. Because of Mrs. Wilder. Kelly would do anything for the older woman, including walking over fire. And it looked like dealing with Justice would come darn close to that fiery fate.

Kelly would manage. It’s what she did best. Her older sister, Barbie, looked gorgeous and Kelly…well, Kelly managed. Barbie brought men to their knees in adoration and Kelly managed not to care that she faded into the wallpaper whenever her sister was around.

“It’s a good thing you’re so smart,” their father had often told Kelly when she was growing up. “Because you’re not as beautiful as your sister, so you need something else to make things balance out.”

But things had never felt balanced to Kelly. Growing up, she’d often felt like a forgotten member of the family. Her mother, a beauty like Barbie, had referred to Kelly as her “foundling child” because she hadn’t inherited their blond-and-blue-eyed coloring and instead had taken after her father with brown hair and eyes.

When her mother died in an automobile accident, Kelly had been devastated. She’d despaired of ever being anything but the gangly, awkward thirteen-year-old she was, of ever showing her mother that she was her daughter and did belong.

And there was no depending on her sister during that time, because Barbie had spent every moment with Justice, accepting his marriage proposal only a few weeks after their mother’s death.

Justice and Barbie had been going together throughout high school, but even so, Kelly was surprised that Barbie had agreed to marry Justice. He’d already signed up to join the Marines after graduation. Barbie had told her that she was off to live an adventurous life.

Which left Kelly alone with her father, who tried unsuccessfully to hide how much he missed his wife and oldest daughter. He was proud of Kelly’s good grades and bragged about how smart she was, but he and Kelly never shared the special bond that he had with Barbie.

Mrs. Wilder had been a lifesaver during those difficult times, stepping into a maternal role with ease. Ever since then they’d continued to share a special bond, despite the divorce between Barbie and Justice.

Yes, Kelly would do anything for Mrs. Wilder. Even face a lion like Justice in his den.

She wondered if he knew that Barbie had recently gotten engaged to a wealthy Atlanta businessman? If so, did that knowledge contribute to his bad mood, to his coming to this island? He’d certainly still sounded bitter when he’d said, Haven’t you Hart women messed up my life enough already?

Kelly had anticipated that Justice might be angry at her sudden appearance, but she hadn’t expected her own response to him. Sure she’d had a teenage crush on him, but that had been ages ago. There hadn’t been any way for her to foresee the powerful physical effect he had on her now. And she’d only just arrived. There was bound to be more touching the more time she spent with him.

If she became his physical therapist, they’d be in close physical contact. She had to be prepared for that. But the one thing she wasn’t prepared to do was fall in love with Justice Wilder.

Justice was not having a good evening. He wasn’t getting any more information out of his mother than he’d gotten out of Kelly.

“You forget, Justice, I’ve been interrogated by the best—your father. You’re not going to get me to tell you anything I choose not to,” his mom told him. “It didn’t work when you were ten and trying to find out what I got you for your birthday and it’s not going to work now.”

“I’m injured, you shouldn’t be picking on me.”

“That’s right, you’re injured and you shouldn’t be giving me white hair by taking off from the hospital against doctor’s orders.”

So much for trying the sympathy routine. “I’m fine,” he said impatiently.

“We both know that’s not true.” His mother’s voice was quiet but firm. She’d never been one to take any guff. As the only female in a household of five men—her husband and four strapping sons—she couldn’t afford to be a pushover.

“So you sent little Kelly here to take care of me?”

“She’s good at what she does, Justice. Let her help you.”

“I don’t need any help.”

“You can always tell a Marine, but you can’t tell them much,” she muttered before growling, “Don’t be such an idiot.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom.”

“I mean it, Justice.” She was using her sternest voice. “You be nice to Kelly. I sent her there. It wasn’t her idea to go.”

“I’m a grown man, I don’t need my mother sending anyone to help me. I’ve faced plenty of danger on my own.”

“I know that,” she said quietly. “And I know the nickname you earned in your squad because of it. Invincible. Able to do the impossible. It’s almost as if you were tempting the fates to do something to you. If there was a dangerous mission, you were on it.”

“It’s what I do.” Or what he used to do. Who knew what his future held now? He glared down at his injured shoulder and tried to ball his right hand into a fist and raise his arm. It was a pitiful effort.

“And worrying about you and taking care of you is what I do,” his mother countered. “I’ve let you do your job all these years, now let me do mine. Just give physical therapy a try with Kelly and see how things turn out.”

“I don’t want her here.”

“You can’t throw her out.” His mother sounded panicked, which made him feel guilty.

“I won’t throw her out,” he said gruffly. “It’s storming outside.” Lightning flashed again. “I wouldn’t turn a dog out in this kind of weather.”

“How kind of you to liken Kelly to a dog,” she noted wryly.

“Okay, so I don’t have my brother’s charming ways with women,” Justice retorted.

“I’m not asking you to be charming, just to be nice. Think you can do that? I’m only nagging you because I love you.”

His throat suddenly clenched. “I know that. Listen, I’ve got to go, Mom. I only called you to let you know I’m okay.”

He quickly ended the call and tossed his cell phone onto the night table. He’d lied to his mom. He wouldn’t be okay until he’d recovered. He was Invincible once. He needed to be Invincible again. Or die trying.

“My mom told me to be nice to you,” Justice drawled a few minutes later as he watched Kelly wipe down the stove.

“And you told her you’ve been the perfect host, right?” she drawled right back.

“I told her I wouldn’t toss you out on your keister in a storm.” A boom of thunder crashed as if to emphasize his statement. Noting her startled jump, he said, “Are you afraid?”

She tossed the sponge back into the sink before turning to face him again. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no, I’m not afraid of storms. Actually I think they’re kind of neat. And pretty amazing. Did you know that lightning bolts are rarely thicker than a common pencil?”

“You’re just a fountain of information, aren’t you?”

“I’m a smart woman.”

“Not smart enough to stay away from me.”

She sighed. “What is it going to take to convince you that I can help you?”

“A miracle?”

“How about a game of poker?”

He narrowed his blue eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“If I beat you, then you’ll stop being such a baby about my being your physical therapist.”

Justice stared at her in amazement. Did she have any idea who she was speaking to here? He was a member of the Marine Corps’ most elite Force Recon. He knew twenty ways to disable an enemy in the blink of an eye. He’d used deadly force. And she was calling him a baby and challenging him to a poker game? She clearly wasn’t as smart as she claimed to be.

“What happens when I win?” he countered.

“Then I’ll leave on the next ferry.”

He found that hard to believe. Not when she’d been so adamant about staying. She didn’t appear to be the type to give up easily if at all. Stubborn. Just like his ex-wife. Definitely another troublemaking Hart woman—the last thing he needed in his life. “What’s the catch?” he demanded.

“No catch. I happen to have a deck of cards with me.”

“I’m sure you do.” He didn’t trust her for one minute. The woman was up to something. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to let her get away with it. “And I’m sure you won’t mind if I examine them first.”

“Afraid I’m going to cheat the big bad Marine?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you tried. After all, you are Barbie’s sister.”

“I’m nothing like my sister.”

“No, you’re not, are you.”

His comment stung for some reason. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her, as if dismissing her.

Okay, so she wasn’t gorgeous like Barbie. That didn’t mean she didn’t have other redeeming characteristics.

Like being smart? an inner voice mocked.

Like being strong, she silently countered. And making the most of what she had. And being independent. Unlike Barbie, she didn’t need outside reinforcement to feel complete. She didn’t need constant reassurance and male adoration.

Kelly narrowed her eyes at him, giving him a don’t-mess-with-me look. “No, I’m not my sister. I’m something even better.”

“Really. And what’s that?”

“A woman not to be trifled with.”

He raised one dark eyebrow. “Trifled with, huh? I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You do that.” She walked over to her backpack and reached into an outside pocket. “Here are the cards.” She handed them to him. “Check them out. Then prepare for a trouncing.”

“First trifle now trouncing.” His voice was mocking.

So was hers. “What’s wrong, is my vocabulary too big for you?”

“I’ll try and keep up.”

“I hope it isn’t too much of a strain for you.”

“I think I can handle it.” And you. The look he gave her made that much clear.

She’d forgotten how blue his eyes were. It was like being bathed in the deep ocean, his gaze washing over her.

“We’ll have to see,” she replied, backing away from him…and temptation.

“Want me to deal?”

“No, I’ll deal. I feel it only fair to warn you that when I play cards with my nursing buddies, I often end up winning.”

“I’m shaking in my boots.”

Actually he was barefoot. He had nicely formed feet leading up to muscular calves and thighs. Don’t go there, she sternly warned herself, tearing her gaze away.

“I feel it only fair to warn you that when I play cards with my Force Recon buddies, I always win,” Justice said.

“Then we’ve both been warned.” She sat down at the table where they’d recently eaten and waited patiently for Justice to join her before adding, “May the best woman win.”

Kelly didn’t feel one iota of guilt for not informing him of the summer she spent working at an Atlantic City casino and learning card tricks from a seventy-year-old gentleman gambler named Diamond Mick. She deliberately dealt the cards a tad awkwardly, not like a complete novice but not like one confident of winning. She didn’t want to overplay her hand here. Let Justice think she was a bit nervous.

The truth was she never cheated when playing gin rummy with her nursing buddies. But poker was another thing. She rarely got the chance to practice what Diamond Mick had taught her, other than practicing in front of a mirror to make sure she hadn’t lost her touch.

They only played one hand. As it turned out she didn’t have to cheat, she was dealt a fantastic set.

The problem was that Justice looked equally thrilled with whatever he had. What if he cheated?

She’d have to count on a Marine’s code of honor preventing him from doing that. Maybe his confidence was his way of trying to bluff her into folding. That wasn’t going to happen.

She called his bet. Justice set down his cards, spreading them out with a confident grin. “Read ’em and weep. Four of a kind.”

“Very impressive. But I believe a straight flush beats four of a kind every time.” And she set down her own cards.

“I don’t believe this.”

“I didn’t cheat.”

“I know you didn’t, I was watching you like a hawk.”

Kelly was relieved that she hadn’t had to practice her card trick skills after all. She’d forgotten that as a Force Recon Marine, Justice had unusually acute powers of observation.

“So we’re agreed. I stay on as your physical therapist. Good.” Kelly didn’t even wait for him to reply. “That’s all settled, then. Well, it’s getting late and I’ve had a full day. I think I’ll turn in.”

“Go right ahead.” His look dared her to get ready for bed in front of him.

She had no such qualms. Once her sleeping bag was comfortably arranged on the couch, she tugged on a huge sleepshirt over her head and upper torso. Under cover of the thick cotton material she expertly wiggled and maneuvered her T-shirt and bra right off, tugging them out the armhole and into her backpack in one deft operation.

Justice appeared stunned by her behavior. Good. She liked to keep him on his toes. She was not about to retreat into the bathroom to get ready for bed like some shy miss. She could adopt as much of a don’t-mess-with-me stance as any Marine. It was all about attitude with a capital A.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Justice asked.

“My co-ed college dorm. Were you suitably impressed?”

“Were you trying to impress me?”

She shook her head.

“Good.” His voice was curt. “Because I don’t need you going all goofy over me like you did as a teenager.”

Kelly wanted to disappear into the floorboards. She hadn’t realized he’d noticed her crush. He’d never said anything at the time. Probably because he’d been too nice. He wasn’t nice any longer. That much was clear.

She couldn’t let him know he’d bothered her. Tucking her “sensible” facade around her once more, she managed a brilliant smile. “Jeez, Justice, that was ages ago. Get over yourself, would you? The bottom line is that you can relax because overbearing Marines aren’t my type,” she assured him. “I promise not to go all goofy over you. Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

The question was, would she be safe with him?

Chapter Three

The kiss was divine. A warm masculine mouth tenderly parted her lips. Hands slipped over her willing body, caressing her with skill and passion. The moment had come. The waiting was over. This was it…

“Rise and shine!” a voice boomed over Kelly’s head.

Startled, she jerked awake and almost ended up rolling right off the couch in her sleeping bag.

“Hold on there.” Justice grabbed her with his good hand.

She’d been dreaming. Blinking rapidly, Kelly tried to take stock of her surroundings. But her immediate attention was focused on Justice.

He’d caught her, preventing her fall with his body. He was so close to her she could feel the warmth of his lean body, could almost hear his heartbeat. She could certainly feel her own heart beating wildly.

She could also feel every one of his fingers. He wasn’t holding her that tightly. She was just super-sensitized to his touch, deliciously rough against her soft skin. He had calluses. He smelled of soap and shaving cream. She was wildly tempted to sniff his cheek, to lean closer and fall into his incredibly blue eyes….

“Hey,” he said gruffly, “I thought you promised that you weren’t going to throw yourself at my feet.”

A bucket of cold water couldn’t have snapped her out of her momentary reverie faster. “I’d like to throw something, all right,” she muttered, shifting away from him on the couch. “And not at your feet. At your head. What time is it?”

“O-five hundred.”

“Five in the morning?” She hadn’t gotten to sleep until after one, tossing and turning on the couch. And that dream she was having was just getting really good. Not that she’d been dreaming about Justice. She hadn’t. She was sure that the man in her dreams bore a striking resemblance to the sexy actor Dylan McDermott. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

“Affirmative. Time to rise and shine and get this physical therapy thing going,” Justice stated. “The faster we get started, the faster we’ll be done, and then you can go your way and I can return to my tour of duty.”

“First I need to see your medical records.”

“I’ve got them here.” Using his left hand, he waved them in front of her sleepy face. “Had them faxed from the mainland.”

“Fine. I’ll read them.” She barely stifled a yawn. “But first I need coffee and a shower, in that order.”

“Go ahead, but be fast about it. No dawdling for an hour in the bathroom trying to make yourself beautiful.”

“I could stay in the bathroom for a week and I still wouldn’t be beautiful,” she wryly retorted. “I told you, I’m not my sister.”

“So I’m learning.”

“Oh, so you are capable of learning? That’s an encouraging sign.”

“You sure are a feisty little thing, aren’t you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh puhlease! For one thing, I’m not little. I’m five foot seven in my bare feet. For another I’m not feisty.”

“Could have fooled me.”

“Yes, but then you’re a Marine, easy to fool.”

“You’re just saying that to get to me,” Justice calmly replied. “See? I am learning.”

“Yes, you are. And you’re blocking my way to my morning caffeine so move, or face my wrath.”

“Wrath, huh? Is that anything like trifling with a trouncing?”

“No, it’s much worse. Now move.”

“Not a morning person, are we?” At her fiery look, he backed up. “Okay, okay, I’m moving.”

Still bleary-eyed, she headed for the kitchen and the thermos of coffee she’d left there last night. Cold coffee was better than no coffee. It was actually still a little warm, and she felt the caffeine hit her system as she grabbed clean clothes from her backpack on her way to the bathroom.

A shower helped restore her. She dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Her hair was still damp as she returned to the kitchen to confront Justice.

Only now did she notice the shirt he was wearing, which was one of those brilliant multicolored Hawaiian designs. How could she have missed that before? “Nice shirt,” she noted.

“It’s not mine,” he growled. “My buddy Striker owns this beach house and a collection of gaudy Hawaiian shirts.”

Judging from Justice’s disgusted expression, she figured he hadn’t chosen to borrow his friend’s clothes out of a desire to make a fashion statement. No doubt his injury made getting in and out of a button-down shirt easier than a T-shirt like he’d been wearing last night. And no doubt Justice hadn’t brought any shirts of his own, or he’d be wearing them and not this tropical number. He hadn’t done up all the buttons, leaving a sexy amount of his chest bare.

Time to change the subject, she decided. “So what’s for breakfast?”

“Toasted physical therapists,” he drawled.

Kelly cracked up. “I don’t believe it. The brooding Justice Wilder actually made a joke. This has got to be a first.”

“Who said it was a joke?”

“I’m tougher than I look. You don’t want to dine on me, believe me.” She opened the fridge and pulled out the fresh eggs in the box of provisions she’d brought with her yesterday. “How do scrambled eggs sound?”

His growling stomach was answer enough. Hers quickly followed suit. “Okay.” She reached for a frying pan. “A big rasher of scrambled eggs coming right up.”

Justice surreptitiously watched her as she moved around the kitchen with a speedy efficiency. She was into multitasking—beating the eggs with a fork in one hand while she popped pieces of bread into the toaster with the other. She seemed to have recovered from her earlier grouchiness.

Today she was wearing a pair of khaki walking shorts and a plain pink T-shirt. The sandals she wore displayed her feet and the neon pink nail polish on her toenails. Her question mark earrings once again dangled in her ears. Her damp hair was gathered up in one of those plastic clip things to keep it out of her way. She didn’t look particularly gorgeous but he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her.

Maybe it was her can-do attitude, or her off-key humming of a Faith Hill country song. She wasn’t her sister. She hadn’t spent a lot of time in the bathroom messing with makeup. In fact, he doubted she was wearing any. But as she passed by his seat at the small dining table, he noted that she smelled really good. Not all perfumy, but fresh and sexy.

Sexy? Dismiss that thought. This was his ex-wife’s baby sister here. Okay, so she was only five years younger than Barbie, which also made her five years younger than he was. Not a big deal. Age wasn’t the issue here. Family connections were.

She was here for one purpose, or so she said. To increase his chances of recovering the full use of his right arm. His shooting arm. He’d been one of the best sharpshooters Force Recon had ever seen. And now he sat here barely able to pick up a damn cup of coffee.

“What makes you think you can do anything to help me recover the mobility in my arm?” he abruptly demanded.

“The fact that I’m good at what I do. But I need to review your medical records before I can tell you anything definite, read the doctor’s orders for your treatment.”

“It’s all right here.” He impatiently shoved the file across the table, wanting those incriminating papers away from him. He already knew what they said by heart. Prognosis: unknown. Critical ligament damage…full recovery of mobility unlikely.

Well, Justice had dealt with “unlikely” and “unknown” before. More times than he could count, in fact. It had been unlikely that he would survive that last mission in a certain Middle Eastern country rumored to harbor terrorists.