Free The Best of Lucy Felthouse by Lucy Felthouse Page A

shook it, and then offered to take my bags. I let him. After all, he had the muscle for it, and I thought it was a damn good excuse to check out his arse as he bent to pick them up. It was definitely worth it. His combat trousers went taut and I had a good look at what I suspected was a nice firm backside. I quickly averted my eyes as he stood, then followed his lead as we left the station.
    Parked outside was a dark green 4x4. What was I expecting, a limo? Trouble is, I had no idea how I was going to get in the damn thing, given I was wearing a tight pencil skirt with slits up the side and stiletto heels. Bollocks.
    Corporal Stokes strode over to the vehicle, unlocked it and put my bags in the back. He was just about to open his door and hop in when he noticed me dithering on the passenger side. A slight frown on his face, he walked around to me. Then he appeared to really notice me for the first time. His eyes travelled from my beautiful but completely impractical shoes, to my tight knee-length skirt, and finally to my trendy white blouse, buttoned to reveal just a hint of cleavage. I saw the comprehension dawn on his face, followed by that slight frown again. In an instant, it was gone.
    â€œMa’am,” he said, his eyes glinting with amusement, “let me help you. I’m going to have to lift you onto the seat. Watch your head.”
    He proceeded to steer me so I was facing him, my back to the truck. Then his hands were on my hips and lifting me as though I was weightless until my backside was resting on the seat. I could then easily swivel myself around to sit properly without displaying my underwear to the world. But I didn’t. I remained frozen in place for a couple of seconds, Corporal Stokes’ hands still on my waist until I steadied myself. Well, I was certainly in no rush for him to let go. Our eyes met. I felt a trickle of moisture between my thighs, and looked down, sure it was obvious to the world. But it broke the spell. Once our eye contact was severed, Corporal Stokes cleared his throat loudly as he removed his hands from my waist then stepped back and prepared to close the door of the truck when I was ready.
    I hastily shuffled round so I was facing the right way and grasped the seatbelt with slightly trembling fingers, which didn’t want to do their job. I managed to wrench it across my body and fumble around trying to clip it into place as Matt got into the driver’s side of the 4x4. He hopped in effortlessly, fired the engine and put on his own safety belt. He glanced across at me to make sure I was secure, then wrenched the vehicle into gear before pulling out of the car parking space and heading for the exit.
    As the countryside sailed past, I took advantage of the fact Matt was concentrating on driving and studied him as subtly as possible. I glanced at his profile. He really was what many women would consider a good catch. As I said, he was tall with dark hair and eyes. He also had a very sensual mouth with full lips which I could imagine doing all kinds of unspeakable things to me …
    Ahem, anyway. As it was a warm day, he’d rolled the sleeves up on his shirt to reveal lovely muscular arms. I briefly wondered if his thighs would follow suit, then thought it probably wasn’t a good idea to allow myself to think about what was under those combats. It could get me into all kinds of trouble.
    In an attempt to distract myself, I made idle conversation with Matt. I found out his age (same as me, 25), how long he’d been in the Army, whether he’d been deployed before, and so on. He turned to glance at me occasionally as he answered my questions. Which I had lots of, according to him.
    â€œI’m a journalist; it’s my job to ask questions.”
    â€œBut you’re not writing an article about me!”
    â€œNo, but I’m just taking an interest in the nice young man that’s kindly picked me up, is that a crime? I’m still human you