Regiment.” How fucking proud my dad would have been.
Realization flashes in Izzy’s eyes. “But you came home when your dad died.”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard, conscious of the lump in my throat. “I was ready to sign on for a second tour, but my mom needed me, and my sister—well, her marriage fell apart within a few months of the wedding.”
She nods as her green gaze holds mine. “So you know what it’s like to make sacrifices for family.”
“Yeah. I do.” I’m not sure why she’s dwelling on this, but it seems to matter to her. “I had a plan once. A set of goals that I worked really hard to hit.” I take a breath, trying to think of how to phrase this. “Plans change. The future you think you’re destined for—it can become something different in the blink of an eye. Sometimes, that’s tragic. But sometimes—sometimes it’s the best thing that could happen.”
Izzy watches my face. I wonder if she hears what I’m telling her. Never in a million years did I see myself falling for a Southern European duchess who’s bound to return to her home country.
But here we are and maybe—if we’re really fucking lucky—plans could change again.
“What are you thinking?” I ask softly.
Izzy takes a breath. “I think we both understand duty.”
It’s an odd thing to say, and I’m not sure how to take it. “You mean military service or family?”
“Both.”
I shake my head slowly. “Family’s about love, not duty.”
Iz gives me the tiniest of smiles and tightens her hold around my waist. “Could you do something for me?”
“Anything.” It’s a normal turn of phrase, but I swear I’d walk naked through the produce aisle if she asked. “What do you need?”
Izzy bites her lip, green eyes locking with mine. “Make me forget, Bradley.”
My brain takes an embarrassingly long time to process the request. “I just want to be clear about where the comma was in that sentence,” I say slowly. “Was that ‘make me forget Bradley,’ or ‘make me—'”
Her kiss smothers the rest of my words as Iz pulls me down so my mouth meets hers. She pushes against my chest, backing me toward her bedroom as her tongue brushes mine. I resist the urge to scoop her into my arms, recognizing another need in her. She needs to call the shots. She wants to be in charge, at least this time.
Sliding my fingers through her hair, I let her back me down the hall and through her bedroom door. She doesn’t break the kiss as her fingers fumble with the buttons on the front of my shirt. I let her undress me, aching to do the same to her. But something tells me that’s not the void she needs to fill. Not yet, anyway. I lift my arms to let her drag the shirt off my shoulders, then return my hands to the perfect curve of her waist.
“You’re so soft.”
She smiles, green eyes flashing heat. “It’s the sweater. It’s cashmere.”
I shake my head and smile. “It’s you. It’s all you, Iz.”
With a smile, she drags her hands down my bare chest. “I want you,” she says. “Not just your fingers and tongue, but all of you, buried deep inside me.”
That’s about as clear as it gets on the consent scale, but I still hesitate. “You’re sure? We don’t need to rush things if—”
“We do, actually.” The smile she gives me is full of heat, but there’s something else. Sadness, maybe? But it’s gone in a flash, and maybe I imagined it because she pushes me back on the bed and climbs on top of me, fingers tugging at my fly.
“I don’t want to wait, Bradley.” She frees my cock, dragging my jeans and boxers down my legs in one smooth motion. “Please. Make me forget.”
Her lips graze the head of my cock before I can ask what it is I’m wiping from her memory. Then my own mind goes blank because hello, Izzy’s drawing me into her mouth and sucking and teasing and Jesus Christ, I can’t take much more of this.
“Izzy.” Her name snags in my throat as I wriggle her jeans off while her mouth works magic on my dick. “Slow down if you want this to last.”
She sits up and smiles, moving to straddle me again with only a thin strip of satin between her thighs. “I need you inside me first.” Tugging off her sweater, she reaches behind her to unhook her bra and holy Christ—
“You have the most beautiful