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Willing. Lucy MonroeЧитать онлайн книгу.

Willing - Lucy Monroe


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      “You want me to kiss you?”

      “If you don’t mind.”

      Daniel didn’t wait for her to change her mind, but pulled her body into immediate full-press contact. “Oh, I don’t mind, Josette. Not at all.”

      Her expression turned wary at his predatory tone, but she didn’t pull away.

      Smiling at that reality, he lowered his mouth to cover hers, and everything inside him went still. She tasted like Christmas, his birthday, and a successful mission all rolled into one. Sweet and delicious, warm and soft, her mouth was everything he remembered it being and more.

      WILLING

      LUCY MONROE

      KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

       http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      For my new daughter, Sabrina.

      I love you very much and

      thank God for your being in my life!

      And with thanks to the Oregon State Police

      for answering hours worth of questions

      and being so incredibly helpful with the details

      on this book. Any errors found within

      these pages are mine and mine alone.

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Prologue

      Josie’s chest felt like someone had tied a rope around it and was pulling at the ends.

      She didn’t want to disappoint Daddy. Not again. She tried to breathe shallow, to be quiet so he couldn’t find her, but he always did and he always told her what she did wrong so he could. She tried so hard to hear him moving among the trees, but she never could. He would just appear, and he would be frowning.

      “You broke a twig on the other side of the tree.”

      She jumped, even though she’d been expecting the sound of her dad’s voice. Spinning around to face him, she fell into the fighter’s stance he’d taught her on her eighth birthday.

      His pale green eyes, just like hers, narrowed, and without any warning one of his feet shot out toward her. Leaping as high as she could, she avoided the kick. Bringing her fist down on his extended leg, she swung her own foot in a high arc to connect squarely with his side.

      Air rushed out from his lips, telling her she’d made good on the kick to his kidney, the one he told her even a little girl could use to hurt an attacker.

      His hand came up to where she’d kicked him as he stepped back from her before she could make another pass at him with her hand or foot. “Good job. You’re fast Josie-girl.”

      Standing tall, his thin lips smiling, his eyes warmed, and the tight feeling in her chest disappeared.

      “Thank you, Daddy.” She loved it when her dad smiled at her. “But how did you know I’d broken the twig? It could have been a deer, or something.”

      He picked her up and squeezed her. “I just knew. You’ll learn to rely on your instincts, too, one day.”

      She hugged him back, feeling happy and warm, but she didn’t think she would ever be as good a soldier as her dad. She tried, though. It made him happy, and since Mama died, there wasn’t much that did. She tried very hard not to think of Mama or how it felt to be tucked into bed with a gentle kiss and a bedtime story.

      Mama had been soft, but Josie had to be hard. Daddy said so. He said she was ten years old now and too old for bedtime stories, but he let her read at night. Once a week he took her to the library in town at the bottom of the mountain and let her check out as many books as she wanted.

      She liked the old fairy tales—the ones without pictures—but they were all wrong because the princesses never knew how to fight. Girls had to know how to fight. Daddy said so. Josie figured she could beat some of those evil knights and dragons easy, but she liked reading the stories anyway.

      “It’s time for dinner, Josie. We’ll go back now.” Daddy set her down and ruffled her hair. “All right?”

      She nodded and smoothed her hair with her fingers. It was short because he said all soldiers wore their hair short. She thought sometimes she’d like long golden hair like a princess, but her hair was dark, and she wasn’t a princess anyway. She was a soldier. Not as good as Daddy, but better than some of the men that came through his mercenary school.

      She put her hand in her dad’s and walked beside him, trying to match her stride to his. “None of your men found me.” She was proud of that fact.

      Daddy smiled again, squeezing her fingers. “No, they didn’t.” Then he got serious and mean looking. “They’ll hear about that tonight.”

      She shivered, glad she was just his daughter and not one of the soldiers who paid him to teach them how to fight. Daddy might get mad at her for being sloppy, but he never yelled at her, or made her crawl facedown in the mud, or march in the icy stream that ran behind the compound, like he did the men he trained.

      She was going to be the best soldier that ever lived when she grew up, but she was going to learn how to do it before Daddy figured she was old enough to be disciplined like the other soldiers. By the time she was grown up, she was never going to make mistakes, and even Daddy wasn’t going to be able to find her when she hid in the forest.

      Chapter 1

      “So, why isn’t Josie taking on the partnership?”

      Daniel Black Eagle didn’t like incongruities, and Tyler McCall’s desire to take on a partner for his mercenary school in the Oregon Coastal Range didn’t add up. Not when his daughter was more than qualified to run the school on her own.

      Tyler ran his hand over his salt-and-pepper crew cut, a frown wrinkling his brow. “She’s not interested. Thought one day I’d leave the school to her, but she says she’s spent enough of her life living like a soldier.”

      “You’re not ready to give it up.” And probably never would be.

      Men like Tyler knew one thing, warfare. Whether training soldiers or fighting, they lived for combat and usually died the same way.

      “Not yet. There are still some good years left in this old body.”

      Daniel didn’t doubt it. The Vietnam vet was in better shape than a lot of Daniel’s contemporaries, and there was no arguing with the fact that he was still a damn fine trainer. “You’ve run the school for a long time without a partner.”

      “Times change. Josie’s ready to move on, and I’m ready to let someone else do some of the grunt work.”

      Daniel


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