Fire and Honor:he Lightwood AffairBy: M.S.Parker
When twenty-four-year-old Honor Daviot returns to the States after her latest tour overseas as an army medic, she's ready to settle down with her fiancé, and open her own pediatric clinic. A nice, quiet life, away from violence and war.
But fate intervenes when she crashes her car...and wakes up to find a handsome stranger watching her. His name is Gracen Lightwood, and he is unlike any man she's ever met before. Hot and sexy and…too bad he’s also delusional. Not only is he wearing clothes that look like something out of a museum, he insists that the year is 1775.
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You don’t wanna miss Fire and Honor (The Lightwood Affair) – A steamy romance, unlike anything M. S. Parker has written before.
The bullet grazed my shoulder seconds before I realized what was happening, burning a path across my skin.
The noise around me was deafening. Automatic gunfire mixing with shouts in English and whatever dialect of Arabic our assailants were using. A hand pushed my head down, and my entire body slipped into the front floorboard as bullets slammed against the SUV’s shell.
“Get us out of here!” I snapped the order even as my brain was still registering the fact that what should've been a simple mission had turned into a shit-storm.
I looked up at Wilkins as he slammed on the gas, throwing all of us backwards. I tried to push myself up, already reaching for my weapon, but he shoved me down again. I glared at him but didn't try to move. He needed both his hands to drive, and I'd only be a distraction.
“Chew my ass out all you want when we get back to base, but for now, stay the hell down,” he yelled, maneuvering the vehicle expertly as shots ricocheted off the SUV.
I didn't get up, but I did turn so I could see the rest of my team. Rogers was in the backseat, his hand on his side as I watched the blood stain his shirt. Instincts to serve and protect over-rode natural self-preservation, and I started to push myself up.
“Dammit, Honor, get your sexy ass down!” Wilkins shouted. “You can’t help him if you’re dead. I need ten minutes.”
“He doesn’t have ten minutes!” I shot back, shoving gauze against my own flesh wound. It wasn’t the first time Wilkins felt the need to protect me just because I was a woman. I can take on this war just as good as any man.
Wilkins quickly glanced behind him, cursed under his breath, and pushed down harder on the gas. Rogers groaned in pain as we hit a speed bump, but he shook his head at me when I leaned forward. Damn him and his ability to read what I was thinking. I gritted my teeth, my impatience making my fear secondary even though gunshots were still ringing around us.
As we moved out of range, Wilkins didn't slow, but he did gesture for me to move. I quickly jumped into the back seat, grabbing for my medic kit as I went. I picked up a pair of scissors and cut the hole in Rogers' shirt so I could get a better look at his wound. Working quickly, I caught Wilkins’ eyes in the rearview mirror and glared at him before turning back to Rogers.
“Will he be okay?” Wilkins asked as he took another hairpin turn.
I ignored the question, keeping my mind on the task at hand as the SUV bumped from side to side on what passed for a road here.
“That was a little unexpected,” Wilkins ventured.
I shot him another look, and this time, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “This was the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do, Wilkins!”
“That's saying something,” Rogers gasped out. His face was pale, and I had a feeling he was distracting himself.
“It was recon,” Wilkins argued.
“It was miles away from where we should have been,” I shot back. “I'm okay with dying for my country, but I don't want it to be because my driver was off doing his own thing.”
Rogers put a hand on mine and managed a grin. “No one's dying here, corporal.”
I could see how much pain he was in, but the fact that he could smile and was taking the time to reassure me helped me relax. Or, at least as much as I could relax over here.
I hardly ever slept.
It wasn’t insomnia, per say, just the combination of adrenaline and my thoughts, which I had come to learn was never a good thing. Still, there was some consolation in being the only one up at an hour when everyone around was fast asleep. Things usually seemed clearer then, thoughts more discernible, and sometimes, I eventually got a couple hours of sleep.