of men they could identify, which was extremely important as she had learned in a war where anyone could be a combatant and most didn’t wear uniforms.
All of a sudden, strong arms wound around her from behind. Holding her snugly, halting her pacing. For an instant she wanted to pull away because the need to keep moving was powerful. A leftover instinct of some kind.
“Easy, Sky,” he said. “It’s going to be okay. It’s a small group of fringe types. We can deal with it.”
“I know.” She forced herself to relax, releasing a sigh as she did so. “I know. But it still feels creepy.”
“I agree with you there. But creepy isn’t a threat assessment, is it.”
In spite of it all, she had relaxed enough to laugh. A weak laugh, but genuine. “You’re right,” she said as she turned within the circle of his arms to face him.
He smiled down at her. “Remember, this Cap has failed at everything. And managed to anger somebody enough that he got a dishonorable discharge. I’d be more worried if it had been for medical reasons.”
“Why?”
“Crazy.”
She laughed again, more easily this time. “I didn’t think of that. So we can be reasonably certain he’s not that far over the edge.”
“Yeah, it takes a lot to get discharged for mental illness. Hell, they wouldn’t even let go of guys with severe post-traumatic stress disorder. I figure Cap is a guy with an inflated sense of himself. He’s more apt to screw up by thinking he’s better than he is or by overreaching.”
“That’s possible.” But even as she answered, she realized that her uneasiness with the situation was slipping away, being rapidly replaced by awareness of the man whose arms were around her. He held her loosely; she could have moved away, but she didn’t want to.
What had he said earlier, about her having warning signs that popped up? Had she been putting him off without realizing it? Did she want to keep putting him off?
No. The answer was clear in her own mind, in her body, and it didn’t carry one iota of doubt with it. She might be making one of the worst mistakes of her life, but she didn’t believe it. Craig wasn’t Hector, not in any regard. Two men couldn’t have been more different.
This man intuitively understood her land mines and her scars. He probably even shared some of them, although he didn’t talk about them.
Nothing could come of this, but she didn’t seem to care anymore. Just a fling. She could survive a fling. There was, however, an imperative question she needed to have answered: Was she a lousy lover?
Craig didn’t think that was possible. He’d said so. Lousy lovers were selfish lovers, and looking back at her days with Hector she could see his selfishness. It had been there in a lot of ways. So maybe she wasn’t the one who was flawed, and right now she desperately needed to know.
If there was one thing she could put to rest, that was it. One way or the other, she needed to know rather than nursing her pain from Hector and never finding out if he was wrong.
If he was right...well, it could hardly hurt any worse than it already did, could it?
But more than the aching wound in her heart, she wanted Craig. He wasn’t simply an answer to a question. She had been feeling and quashing stirrings of desire for him ever since she had first laid eyes on him. He’d said he was tempted by her. He’d told her he wanted to make love to her and stopped only because he felt her resistance.
That felt so good. Another sigh escaped her as she let go of something old and dark and turned her face toward something new, something that she desired, rather than denying herself out of fear.
But remembering what he had said about her off-limits signs, she realized he wouldn’t take the first step. He wouldn’t cross the barriers he’d sensed unless she invited him to. Because he was that kind of man, a good man, one who genuinely cared about taking care of everything he perceived as being under his protection. And whether he agreed she was capable of looking after herself, she had no doubt that he thought of her as falling under his protection.
A tremor of uncertainty and growing passion both rippled through her. It was as if she hovered at the brink of a cliff, wanting to soar, afraid of falling and unable