Liberty Begins (The Liberty Series) by Leigh James Page B

settings. All the plates and bowls were white, simple and elegant. This was a much nicer setup than I was used to. I took in a deep breath. I was glad I was wearing fancy underwear and expensive jeans. At the thought of the underwear a delicious warmth spreading through me: Fancy underwear that John had chosen for me .
     
    “Please, sit,” John said, and we sat down together. “White wine?” he asked. I nodded my head, yes. He poured it into a stemless glass and I was relieved that it was white. I didn’t know what to do with red wine — maybe because the only kind I’d ever tried had been my mother’s, and it had come in a six-pack and tasted vile.
     
    “I don’t care for stemless glasses,” John said, inspecting his, “but they’re better for the road.” He smiled at me.
     
    I tried to smile back but all I could see was pizza out of the corner of my eye. It smelled heavenly. My mouth filled with water. If only I could turn into a robot, I thought. Then maybe I wouldn’t have all of these awkward moments and could save myself some embarrassment.
     
    “I’m starving,” I blurted out.
     
    John laughed. “Of course you are, sweetheart! Please, eat.” He leaned over and put several pieces of steaming pizza on my plate and handed me a cloth napkin. He took a sip of his wine and started piling food on his plate.
     
    “We bring this with us on the road, uncooked, then cook it when we’re ready,” he said, in between bites.
     
    “It’s delicious,” I said, with my mouth half full.
     
    John threw back his head and laughed. “I love that you eat,” he said. He raised his glass. “To pizza,” he said, and I raised my glass and clinked his.
     
    “To pizza,” I said, chasing my pizza with a sip of wine. It was, of course, delicious.
     
    I looked up at John and smiled. “Thank you for the clothes and for the food,” I said. Then I shoved some more pizza in my mouth. I was pretty sure it had spinach on it, and some sort of weird crumbled cheese sprinkled on top that I had never tried before, but I wasn’t being picky. It was insanely good.
     
    “The clothes look great on you,” he said. “I like you in jeans. And no makeup.” He reached over and stroked my face.
     
    I smiled. He knew what to say to calm me down, to make me feel good. He shifted a little bit and I could see his powerful chest moving underneath his shirt. Yum. The pizza wasn’t the only thing that was making my mouth water.
     
    “Thanks,” I said. “I usually live in jeans and no makeup.” I considered him for a moment. “Do you ever wear jeans? Or anything besides a suit?”
     
    “Of course,” he said. “I’ll wear training clothes when we get to Warwick.”
     
    “What kind of training clothes? Where’s Warwick?” I asked, drinking some more wine. Being close to him made me feel safe and warm, and the wine made me feel calm, relaxed ... even though I had no idea where we’re going or what the training involved.
     
    “Warwick’s in Rhode Island. It’s where I grew up. It’s where our company is based, and our training facilities are there.” He leaned back and smiled at me. “I’m looking forward to your training.”
     
    My insides clenched with desire. “Um...what does it involve, exactly?” I asked, a bit timidly. There seemed to be some sort of double meaning here.
     
    “We do military-based training on a regular basis. Just to keep everyone fit and up to date on the latest technologies. So it involves things like boot camp, munitions, and technical training. We go back home when we’re in between assignments. I brief the men on our new assets and what to expect on our next mission.”
     
    He smiled at me again, and I smiled back up at him, mesmerized. Until my brain started processing information properly again.
     
    “ Boot camp? ” I asked. “Like a workout?” I’d never even run a mile.
     
    His grin was a little wicked this time. “Yes, Liberty, like a workout.”
     
    I let my