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had organised a room on the base so he could scrub up, shave two days’ growth off his face, change into civvies and have a decent meal. Then that same guy had driven him to the nearest car rental place.

      Marshall knew he should’ve stopped overnight and caught some proper shut-eye. Instead, he’d been driving on foreign roads through a sprawling city, then through amazing countryside to reach this small town nestled on the edge of the country’s largest lake. He might’ve been more prepared to cope with what he’d travelled so far for if he’d waited until tomorrow.

      He snorted. ‘For sure. If you’re not ready to see Charlie by now, know what you want to say to her, you’re never going to be.’ How else was he ever going to sleep properly again? ‘But what am I going to say to her? Hey, buddy.’ He looked up at the sky. ‘Rod, you own this idea so help me out here.’

      Sweat beaded on his forehead as his heart thudded against his ribs. Charlie was the woman he went to in his head at night after a hideous day on patrol. She was the woman who’d touched him like no other ever had. She’d gotten under his skin and wouldn’t go away, no matter that he’d known he mustn’t have her again. He had obligations that didn’t include her. And yet here he was.

      ‘It’s not too late to turn around and head back up to Auckland.’ But then he’d never have closure. Would always wonder what he might’ve gained by seeing Charlie one more time. This time he’d say goodbye properly so as his heart understood exactly where it stood. No notes slipped into her pocket.

      Back in Honolulu he’d done the right thing by deliberately telling Charlie nothing about himself, not even which state he’d grown up in. He’d been strong, tough, thinking he was doing her a favour.

      Their fling had been short, sweet, exciting and hot, not to mention mind-numbing. At the end of it he’d hopped a plane ride out of Honolulu bound for the base in Kansas to prepare for his next posting to Afghanistan. He’d been so damned confident he could walk away from Charlie Lang without a care in the world, never to think of her again. Right? Wrong.

      Glug, glug. The remaining soda coursed down his throat. Coming here had to be right up there with being totally selfish. But he didn’t know any other way to exorcise Charlie from his brain, where she seemed to have branded him—with images of her gut-twisting smile, her light laughter, her very sexy body. Hell, even thinking about that turned him on. The heat south of his belt had nothing to do with his head and all to do with being closer to Charlie than he’d been in a very long time.

      So he’d come to get her out of his system? Not to get back in the sack with her?

      ‘Yeah, well, I’m a little confused right now.’

      Not once in those passion-filled weeks had he asked where Charlie was headed after she’d finished her time in Honolulu. So sure had he been that he’d never follow up on her. But she’d told him anyway, making it scarily easy to locate her when he’d given in to the deepening need clawing at him. The world could be a very small place at times.

      Now here he was at the bottom of that world, around the corner from Charlie’s house. Soon he’d see her for real and realise his dreams had lied, that those wonderful memories were vapour, not real. That she’d been a very ordinary woman out for a bit of fun. Then he could get on with life the way he needed to live it, following his army career as hard as possible, even if it wasn’t so rewarding any more. Especially as Rod hadn’t made it. Guilt was his constant companion. Duty to his men his creed.

      Voices washed over him as kids on bikes wheeled past the open window of his rental. Free as the birds they were. Sometimes he missed being a kid and being able to ride horseback around the ranch with his grandfather.

      ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’

      Yup. The weeks when Dad had come home on leave from the army and forced his discipline on his son. Harsh, unforgiving, relentless. That was the old man. He’d ruled by his fists. Hard to believe Granddad had spawned his father. Couldn’t get two more dissimilar men.

      Flick. His mind returned to the nagging questions that refused to die down. Would Charlie greet him with open arms?

      Or would she give him a bollocking for breaking the pact they’d made in Hawaii?

      Let’s have fun and leave it at that. No contact afterwards, no regrets.

      In the deep of the night when he couldn’t sleep—most nights—he wondered if Charlie’s willingness to go along with his ultimatum had meant there had been someone else in her life back here in New Zealand. Some guy she’d wanted to set up house and raise a family with. Had she been sowing some oats in Honolulu before coming back to marry? Whatever she’d been looking for at the time, he’d been a willing partner.

      ‘Never going to know what she thinks while sitting here.’

      Reaching for the ignition, he hesitated. Whatever it was deep inside his psyche that had brought him this far seemed to have suddenly deserted him.

      Finally the engine turned over, purred loudly as though mocking this vacillation. He eased the vehicle back onto the road. His heart rate increased. Excited? Yeah, bring it on. He really wanted to see Charlie, no matter how she reacted. If she sent him packing he’d deal with it.

      ‘At one hundred metres take the right-hand turn,’ droned the GPS.

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      In Hill Road Marshall slowed, peered at letterboxes as he cruised along, finally finding Charlie’s number. Lifting his foot from the accelerator, he glided the vehicle to the kerb and parked. Not stopping to overthink this any more than he already had, he pushed out of the clammy interior and leaned back against the hood, his arms crossed over his chest. He studied the house where Charlie supposedly lived. An old villa in good nick, surrounded by a recently cut lawn and weed-filled gardens, and with huge unusual trees equally spaced along the side fences.

      Female laughter reached him, snuck under his skin, thawing the cold places deep inside. Charlie’s laughter. He’d know it anywhere. It had warmed him, tickled and delighted him. Haunted him. Hungry for his first glimpse of the woman he’d flown halfway round the world to see, he scanned the veranda running across the front of the house. Movement from the side caught his eye.

      A toddler, dressed all in pink, running and stumbling, shrieking with joy while waving a plastic bucket, heading straight for—for Charlie. Beautiful Charlie. There at last, right in his line of sight, was Charlie. In the flesh.

      The air trickled from his lungs as he sank further down onto the front of the car without shifting his gaze. An exploding landmine couldn’t have made him look away now. Memories of holding her close bombarded him, pummelling him with the sheer joy of her. Warmth crept into his body. Had he done the right thing coming here after all?

      Charlie.

      She seemed to still in her movements. Hell, had he called her name out loud? Then she said something to the little girl and jerked backwards as she was rewarded with another ear-shattering shriek of delight.

      Marshall began breathing again.

      And continued watching Charlie, recalling how she’d race back to him after a long day in the ED and leap into his arms, kissing him senseless, before dragging him into bed. Not that he’d been reluctant, far from it. But he had enjoyed being seduced. It had been novel and exciting. She’d teased him blatantly with her body, but had always given what she’d promised. Then there had been the times she’d gone all coy on him and he’d had to woo her into bed.

      He ran his hands down his face and re-crossed his arms. Was Charlie thinner now? Nah, probably not. His memory wouldn’t be that accurate. But her hair was very different. What had she done to those stunning long, honey-coloured tresses that he’d spent hours running his fingers through? Gone, replaced with a shorter, curly cut that framed her beautiful face. Different and yet equally attractive.

      His heart slowed as he watched the woman of his nights reach down and lift the hyperactive bundle into her arms. Even from here he could see the love for the child all over

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