Initiate and Ignite by Nevea Lane Page B

coming to her mind, Celine smiled in response to his frown.
    Keeping in time to the music, she placed her hands on his shoulders, her fingers lightly caressing his taut muscles. Sliding his jacket off his shoulders, she let it fall to the floor. The key was to get him to focus on the here and now. Firmly, she let her hands run down the length of his arms, feeling the toned and hard lines beneath her hands. Still swaying to the music, she guided his hands to her hips. The heat of his warm fingers was burning her through the fabric, and she hadn’t felt such a tingle since her first date.
    “Don’t worry about steps. I’m not drilling you to dance a waltz. Just sway with the music,” Celine whispered her intent in his ear and his hands clutched tighter.
    His hips began to rock with hers, their bodies colliding at the pelvis, his movements becoming more confident. Soon his hands ventured from securely at her waist to the small of her back. The informal hold was a sign he trusted her somewhat and was giving in to the music.
    Taking a deep breath, she dared to press closer to his body, molding herself against his chest, hoping he wouldn’t retreat. Breathing in his scent, Celine felt herself begin to relax and let go of thinking of him as a client. This was a man, a man in need, and she was the one who could fulfill that need, as soon as she figured out exactly what the need was. His hands came up higher, finally resting on her bare back.
    As they swayed, Celine became determined that Xerxes establish an anchor. Even if that anchor meant her, she would freely give her time to see Xerxes make a breakthrough and become able to face his fears.
    “Is this a new form of therapy?” Xerxes had a voice that should have been bottled and sold as a sexual stimulant. His breath, warm on her ear, tickled the tendrils of hair that had fallen out of her chignon during her pirouettes. She let out a chuckle and pressed her body into his.
    “I wouldn’t call this therapy. Would you?”
    “Not according to any book I know. My self-medicated therapy to keep deploying didn’t help either.” His shoulders shrugged, but she kept a firm hold on him.
    “Why did you keep deploying?” Her question wasn’t a trick or a ploy. She had a genuine curiosity about what made this brooding soldier tick. Xerxes sighed, but he didn’t retreat. He pulled her closer and took the lead in their dance.
    “My first deployment. I admit I was green under the gills, but what I saw turned me into a true soldier, although I don’t know if that was a good thing.” Xerxes grabbed her hand and gave her a spin before bringing her body back to his. It was a smooth move, although not typical of what she’d seen of the man so far. She remained silent as he returned their dancing to the pace she’d originally set.
    “The first week, during a routine checkpoint, my company spotted a fifteen year-old kid walking up to our Humvees. Nothing out of the ordinary. There were always kids coming up to get a good look at the ‘Americans’. But this kid had a wild look in his eyes. The dumb kid was about eighty yards out before we noticed this wasn’t a typical kid. He was doing this run-type shuffle and we thought he could have been hurt, perhaps seen one of the guys on our card deck of insurgents.”
    Xerxes shook his head but gripped her waist tighter. She wasn’t going to press him to continue the story, but she could tell it weighed on him. Holding her feet still, she halted their dance. She merely stayed there with her head on his shoulder, feeling him breathe in and out.
    “Sixty yards in, he starts waving his hands in the air. Orleans, Skaggs and Boston had started to run toward him, thinking he was in trouble. That’s when we noticed this kid was strapped around his waist with enough explosives to take out the whole caravan.  He had grenades in his hands. His hands had grenades in them. Fifty yards in, Orleans and Skaggs hit the deck and Boston slid down a