Free Soldier of Love by Gabrielle Holly Page A

frustration. She felt a scream boiling up in her chest.
    “Get out!” she shouted as she uncrossed her arms, flattened her hands and thrust her palms against Thomas’ chest.
    The instant Toni’s hands made contact with Thomas’ body, a deafening crack caused them both to duck. Thomas wrapped his arms around Toni with such spontaneity that she allowed herself to be pulled in against him. They both turned towards the sound of the crack. The bathroom door had slammed shut and the thick oak was split down the centre and splintered away from the hinges. The halves teetered for a moment before falling into the bathroom and crashing onto the tiled floor.
    Still clinging to one another, Toni and Thomas backed up until they were stopped by end of the bed. They untwined until each had an arm behind the other’s back, then they slowly sat on the mattress.
    “Gun smoke,” Thomas whispered.
    Toni could smell it too.
    “I can hear his boots and the jangle of metal—like brass buttons and spurs. Do you hear that?” Thomas asked.
    Toni shook her head. “No.”
    Toni watched wordlessly as the bathroom began to glow and a thick fog rolled out through the doorway.
    “Amazing,” she said.
    “What do you see?” Thomas asked.
    Toni wrinkled her forehead. She turned to face Thomas. He was staring into the bathroom as if searching for anything unusual. She noticed that his eyelids were half closed. He looked like he was struggling to stay awake.
    Toni glanced at the cameras. They were between the bathroom door and Toni’s bed, trained on where Toni and Thomas sat, not on the spectacle she saw unfolding in the bathroom. Toni noted that a tiny red light glowed on each of the cameras. She found herself at once dreading what would emerge from the bathroom and wishing that whatever it was would get on with it already and walk into the frame.
    “Aren’t you seeing this?” she whispered without taking her attention away from the bathroom.
    Thomas didn’t speak. He answered her by stroking her back. His hand swept a lazy figure-of-eight from her tailbone to the base of her neck. Toni felt her shoulders relax and she realised that she’d been shrugging them up around her ears. Thomas continued the slow, sensual pattern over her back and she began to sway under his touch.
    Toni kept her gaze on the bathroom door but was struck by the thought that this was like watching a movie. But, no, it was more intimate, more immersive. This is like watching a stage play. Her body felt heavy and deliciously warm. Her eyelids dropped to half-mast and she felt a gentle smile draw up her cheeks. She slid her arm from behind Thomas’ back and laid her hand on his thigh. The warmth of his skin radiated through the denim. A soft sigh escaped with her next outward breath, as if she’d tasted something heavenly.
    Thomas didn’t stop his rhythmic backrub when the soldier stepped into the bedroom. Toni realised that only she could see the ghost. She felt no fear. She somehow knew that John Buckman meant her no harm. She stole a glance at Thomas and saw only intoxicated bliss on his face. The soldier strode from across the room and stopped in front of them. He removed his hat and flung it on the wingchair near the bedroom window. The hat passed through the seat and disappeared into the shadows beneath.
    John Buckman fixed his stare on Toni and never wavered as he began undressing. He let his weapons drop to the floor. He worked open his brass buttons and shrugged free of his shirt. He stood naked to the waist at the foot of the bed. Toni reached out towards his flat belly and expected her hand to pass through him, just as his hat had passed through the wingchair. Instead, she felt flesh so warm and solid, she wondered if a living, breathing stranger had entered her home. John Buckman disabused her of that notion by stepping back and outstretching his hands. Toni had an irresistible urge to take off her clothing. She wriggled out of her robe and pulled her