Royal Marines - Book 2 E-Book

Romano Arria

• Herausgeber: So Romance - INT
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: Royal Marines
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 291

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

A high-stakes, whirlwind military romance Captain William Nicholson, of the Royal Marines, never anticipated the dramatic shift in his life the day Roxane Wright walked through his door. A devoted nurse, impregnated by an abusive man she had just left, Roxane had come to care for her sister… but it was the heart of the commando unit she struck at. A single father to a teenage daughter, William had given up on love. Yet, the chemistry between them was immediate, and they recognized each other's loneliness. But their budding romance was soon threatened by the return of Sebastian Kelly, Roxane's dangerous ex-partner—a soldier as charismatic as he was unstable, determined to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his. When a high-stakes mission reunites the three servicemen, the danger became personal. William will have to protect the woman he loves… and sometimes, proving that love requires more courage than fighting. Military romance with love at first sight in the world of the Royal Marines Protective hero, bodyguard, single father, and independent heroine rebuilding her life Love triangle - tormented heroes An addictive series blending emotional tension, action, and passion Royal Marines – Wild Hearbeats is the second volume of an intense romance saga where every heartbeat is a victory over fear. ABOUT THE AUTHOR Arria Romano is an author who writes historical and contemporary romance. She studied miltary history at the Sorbonne, and is passionate about literature and art. Her mission : offering her readers hope and love through her stories and characters. She is the author of several bestselling titles, including the US Marines saga.

Leseprobe

Cover

Title page

Prologue♫Unintended – Muse

Bath, EnglandJanuary 21, 2022

Heart racing and cheeks flushed with nervousness, Roxane stared at the pregnancy test she held in her trembling fingers.

Positive.

How was this possible if she never forgot her pill? Could she have had an unfortunate lapse recently? The grueling work schedule she had imposed on herself over the past few months bordered on inhuman, and a moment of forgetfulness was not out of the question.

No, it’s not possible… I would have known if I missed a pill…

Yet, there had indeed been an incident at some point. Roxane was a nurse and knew the symptoms of pregnancy well enough to realize she was now in trouble.

Damn it…

The knot of anxiety lodged in her stomach grew, and she bit her lower lip to suppress the nausea rising steadily in her throat.

Don’t throw up!

The young woman dug her nails into her palms so hard that she would leave crescent-shaped marks on her skin. She stood in the middle of her bathroom, staring anxiously at her reflection in the large circular mirror above her retro-style pedestal sink.

If her calculations were correct, she must be five weeks pregnant. Her last encounter had been in early December, under less-than-pleasant circumstances. Sebastian, the man she had been involved with for ten years now—through some rather tumultuous ups and downs—had, to put it bluntly, «forced» her into sleeping with him.

In the early years, she had been deeply in love with him, but his moody and damaged personality had eventually worn her down, extinguishing the fervent passion he had once ignited in her heart. Yet, she hadn’t found the courage to leave him. They had known each other since they were teenagers and seemed to be a constant in each other’s lives. They were like two members of the same family, bound by an unbreakable tie despite their differences.

When Roxane had been abandoned by her alcoholic father and later abused by her sadistic brother—who had died in a car accident a few years earlier—Sebastian had always been there for her.

Sebastian had been a pillar during her youth, especially since her parents had failed to be present to guide and protect her as they should have. Thus, he had become her only family during a time when she felt as vulnerable as a lamb, without any protection.

But the young man she had relied on since adolescence had changed during his time with the Royal Marines Commandos. War had opened a chasm within him, unleashing hidden demons buried deep in a complex soul where virtues now bowed to vices.

The protective, somewhat hot-headed and unstable young man had completely transformed into a tyrannical, unpredictable individual with erratic moods. He had changed so much that Roxane felt almost nothing for him anymore, except for the comfort of familiarity—whether good or bad.

Sebastian was no longer really her partner but rather a familiar anchor that kept her life balanced.

“Roxane, where are you?”

The deep voice of a man came through the closed bathroom door.

Sebastian.

A long, icy shiver, like an invisible snake, slithered down her spine as she felt his bad energy from here.

He’s going to kill me.

Although the soldier had proposed to her—albeit in a rather pathetic manner—in a local pub, the idea of having a child with Roxane had always repelled him. A paradox that perfectly represented Sebastian and the attachment he had to her. He didn’t truly want to start a family with her; he simply wanted to possess her, to bend her to his desires like a puppet to be controlled at will. Forever.

However, Roxane was no longer the damsel in distress he had first met. Assertive and full of character, she now knew how to stand up to him without fearing abandonment. Perhaps she hadn’t planned on becoming a mother—at least not so soon—but she wouldn’t let him make the decision for her.

Without answering, as she lacked the strength to shout, Roxane threw the pregnancy test into the trash and left the bathroom unsteadily, heading for the colorful living room of her three-room apartment. She had secured it thanks to her job and had been hosting the man who came and went in her life, leaving behind storms she could have done without.

Sebastian was sprawled on the mustard-yellow couch in the living room, still dressed in his Royal Marines camouflage uniform. Clearly, he hadn’t had time to change after leaving his base in Plymouth. He had driven three hours in that dusty outfit to spend the weekend with her. Honestly, Roxane would have preferred to be far from his toxicity.

Their eyes met suddenly, and the young woman felt her legs weaken as electric currents shot through her toes. She even saw black spots before her eyes and thought for a moment she might faint. By some miracle, she managed to stay upright, suppressing a violent wave of apprehension.

Be strong!

Sebastian was a tall, broad-shouldered man, fueled by Irish whiskey. His chestnut hair, which leaned toward copper depending on the light, was cut short above a pale, harmonious face. His features were rather delicate, almost angelic, but his blue eyes held the predatory gaze of a demon.

“Why the long face? Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asked, stretching out his long, athletic legs. “It’s been three weeks since we last saw each other.”

He exuded authority and masculinity, making her feel vulnerable in her gray cotton pajamas. It was like a bear towering over a defenseless squirrel.

A sigh hovered on Roxane’s closed lips. She didn’t like to beat around the bush, especially when the matter was so significant. Clearly, her life was about to take a different turn.

After a brief, heavy silence, the young woman took a deep breath before speaking in a resolute tone:

“I have something to tell you. You’re not going to like it.”

The large, sweat-dampened body shifted on the couch, settling more comfortably into the corner. Usually, a glint of intoxication sparkled in the commando’s eyes, but this time they gleamed with sobriety.

That might have been worse.

“Go on, spit it out.”

He feigned nonchalance, though he was already simmering in a foul mood. His day must have been rough, but not as rough as hers.

Roxane held his probing, slightly intimidating gaze for a moment before lowering hers to her clasped, anxiety-dampened hands.

What do you have to lose, anyway?

Two voices battled in her mind: reason and cowardice. Of course, Roxane took responsibility for her actions, and hiding her “condition” was out of the question.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, summoning a surge of courage.

The end of her sentence seemed to explode like a bomb between them. Deafening, entirely imaginary noises buzzed in her heavy head as her interlocutor froze in place. He didn’t blink, but a palpable tension spread around them.

The atmosphere quickly became suffocating.

Roxane placed a hand on her chest, as if that could quell the fresh wave of nausea threatening to rise.

“Pregnant?” he repeated abruptly, his eyes dark.

She nodded, her lips sealed with fear. If she opened them, she might vomit.

“Fine. It happens. You’ll get an abortion.”

That was how Sebastian dealt with obstacles: by eradicating them with alarming coldness.

The insult of his words sent shivers through her, and she swallowed her nausea with anger. There was no way she would let this man dictate what she did with her body again.

“No, I won’t have an abortion,” she said sharply.

“What?”

“I won’t have an abortion.”

The soldier leaned forward, though he didn’t stand, and glared at her with a murderous look.

“If you keep it, you lose me.”

A few years ago, the thought of losing him would have terrified her, and she would have bent to his will. Today, ­Sebastian’s tyranny was coming to an end. She was going to free herself from his grip and live her life as she saw fit.

Without him, she might no longer have a family, but solitude seemed to suit her now. Better to be alone than poorly accompanied… especially since the tiny fetus, still small but firmly rooted within her, would help her build a brighter future.

For a sudden, intense light—like a sunbeam illuminating you in a mirror’s reflection—had convinced her to keep this unexpected child.

Nothing happens by chance.

“Then I’ll take the risk of losing you, Sebastian.”

Standing as straight as Justice itself, Roxane defied him with her beautiful pearl-gray eyes, brimming with determination. They were dry, resolute.

The commando hadn’t expected this reaction and stared at her in deep astonishment. It lasted several long seconds before rage replaced surprise, and with a leap, he sprang from the couch to stand just inches from her. He pointed a threatening finger at her.

“You’re even dumber than I thought, Roxane. Keep your bastard if you want, but don’t count on me to help raise it!” he spat, his voice hissing with barely contained fury.

His flushed face and murderous eyes were terrifying. He had hit her once before, and for a moment she feared he might strike her again. She could see in his gaze that he was dying to destroy her with his fists, but something held him back.

GET OUT! she wanted to scream, but she couldn’t unclench her teeth as her body wrestled with the emotional storm consuming her.

She was going to throw up any second.

Luckily, Sebastian couldn’t stand her presence any longer and stormed toward the door. There, he grabbed his military duffel bag and left the nurse’s cozy apartment, slamming the door violently behind him.

He hadn’t even given her a parting glance.

Her mind in turmoil and her body trembling with chills, Roxane immediately ran to the bathroom to vomit out her anger, despair, and bile.

Chapter 1♫Call You Mine – Daughtry

Bath, EnglandMay 10, 2022

The Nicholsons lived on Lansdown Road, in a charming townhouse that spanned three spacious floors and opened onto a garden at the back. Stephen, the family patriarch, had decorated each room with meticulous care, showcasing both ­European and Asian culture. His late wife was from Macau and had brought some stunning lacquered Chinese furniture with her, which lent their living room an air of refined exoticism.

Seated on the large Chesterfield sofa, Captain William ­Nicholson was reading The Guardian when the doorbell rang. With calm composure, he glanced over the edge of his newspaper at his younger sister. She was sitting across from him in an upholstered armchair, her bare legs stretched out, one of which bore the scar of a gunshot wound sustained during a hostage situation in the Mediterranean.

“That must be the home nurse,” she informed him.

He immediately folded his newspaper and placed it on the coffee table before getting up from the sofa. With quick strides, he reached the front door and opened it. To his surprise, he found a lovely young blonde woman standing there, dressed in chocolate-colored corduroy overalls and a white long-sleeved t-shirt. The captain had to look down to meet her gaze, as she was quite petite, barely reaching his chest.

I’d say about 5’3”, he thought instinctively.

He himself stood at 6’2” barefoot, hitting 6’3” in his combat boots. At the moment, he was wearing gray slippers that matched his black dress pants and light blue shirt perfectly.

“Hello, sir. Is this the Nicholson residence?”

William gave her a quick, perhaps overly thorough, once-over and replied cordially, “Yes, it is. Are you the nurse?”

“That’s right. My name is Roxane Wright, and I’m here to care for Ophelia.”

Roxane.

This time, the officer’s gaze drifted to the rounded bump beneath her overalls, revealing her advanced pregnancy.

Oh… pregnant.

She was probably five or six months along? While her belly was nicely rounded under the thick fabric, her arms, legs, and face had retained their slenderness.

She looked like a porcelain doll—delicate and beautiful to behold—who shouldn’t be working in such a state.

She must be exhausted. Does her husband still let her work?

Noticing the surprise and then concern in the hazel eyes of her tall interlocutor, Roxane tried to reassure him with an amused tone:

“Don’t worry, pregnancy hasn’t stopped me from working.”

He gave her a skeptical look, which only highlighted the charm of his rugged yet harmonious features. Not only was he handsome, but his attire was elegant. Clearly, when you were tall and athletic, everything suited you—even those dandyish slippers, which contrasted with his military-style haircut. His hair was short on top and nearly shaved at the temples, giving him a stern look that emphasized the exoticism of his features.

With hair that black and almond-shaped eyes like his, he might have Asian roots…

Roxane had grown up near London’s Chinatown and had made many friends in the Asian community, including Eurasian individuals with features similar to this man’s.

“Still, you should consider taking it easy. A pregnant woman needs to pace herself, and I doubt that phrase exists in your profession.”

They had only just met, and William was already being moralistic. He could be tiresome and overbearing, but his protective instinct always guided him. Sensitive to others’ well-being, he sometimes interfered in the lives of those he deemed “vulnerable” to provide moral or physical support.

In this case, the adorable little blonde gazing at him with her large, light gray eyes—cloudy like the English sky—stirred an irrepressible protective urge in him.

It was undoubtedly due to her pregnancy.

“I’ll stop when the baby tells me to,” she replied with a smile in her voice. “May I come in?”

Without hesitation, William stepped aside to let her in, then closed the door behind them. He immediately noticed the large black backpack she carried effortlessly and gallantly offered, gesturing toward it:

“Can I carry that for you?”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you.”

“Alright. My sister is waiting for you in the living room,” he said, leading the way to Ophelia.

When Roxane saw Ophelia Nicholson for the first time, she was immediately filled with a sense of sympathy. She had heard of this famous patient, having browsed one of her novels in a bookstore. Ophelia was a talented young author who had a warm voice over the phone. Roxane had formed a favorable impression of her, which was confirmed now that they were face-to-face.

“I’m glad to meet you, Ophelia, though I wish it were under different circumstances,” Roxane said as she approached the young woman seated in a large armchair.

With her long black hair and green, cat-like eyes, Ophelia Nicholson was even more striking in person than in her official photos. She bore a strong resemblance to her brother.

“I’m delighted to meet you as well,” the author replied enthusiastically. “And to see that you’re expecting a baby! Congratulations!”

The nurse gave a grateful yet enigmatic smile, which intrigued William, who hadn’t missed a single detail of their exchange. Feeling suddenly out of place, he asked with the politeness of a Downton Abbey butler:

“Can I offer you something to drink? Or a snack?”

Roxane met his gaze briefly with her clear eyes. declining with a polite smile that left him rooted to the spot. Until then, he hadn’t noticed the brick-red lipstick that adorned her full lips, perfectly centered on her delicate face. It was her only makeup, but it was enough, as her lashes were so long they needed no enhancement from mascara or eyeliner.

He lingered perhaps a second too long, admiring the thick blonde waves cascading over her shoulders like golden ripples.

“Very well. I’ll leave you two to the care,” he said, exiting the spacious room and leaving the two women to get acquainted over Ophelia’s dressing change.

Ophelia’s wound was clean, not inflamed, and only mildly painful. It was healing quickly, much to the nurse’s delight. To make the care easier, the patient had dressed in a black pleated dress that stopped at her knees.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get a gunshot wound?” Roxane inquired, now seated on a comfortable stool and leaning over the exposed wound.

Ophelia, still in her armchair, had her injured leg resting on a sterile field. She grimaced slightly as Roxane applied iodine to the scar, though the pain was far less than the horror she had endured at sea.

“Well… I don’t know if you’ve been following the news lately, but I was one of the hostages on the ferry from Gibraltar to Tangier.”

Roxane’s gray eyes widened like billiard balls, her mouth opening in a silent gasp. She was stunned, her hands frozen above the wound as her mind raced with questions.

“I can’t believe it…! Of course, I followed the news, and I was so worried for all of you… Thank goodness the Royal Marines intervened quickly and handled it so well.”

Roxane noticed the shadow that darkened Ophelia’s green eyes as she revealed, “The man who led that rescue mission is my boyfriend…”

“Was,” William corrected sharply from behind them, startling them both.

He had returned from the kitchen with a glass of water, which he promptly set on the coffee table for the nurse. She looked at him with a mix of gratitude and curiosity, and he responded with a polite smile.

“Roy and I haven’t broken up,” Ophelia countered in a clipped tone.

“It’s only a matter of time, and you know it’s the best outcome for both of you.”

Roxane sensed the tension between the siblings but remained unfazed, continuing her care with gentle precision. She had just applied the dressing to the stitched wound and secured it with a crepe bandage.

William had disappeared again without her noticing, and when she looked up at Ophelia, the latter gave her a grateful smile.

“Thank you so much, Roxane. May I call you by your first name?”

“Of course. We can even use first names if you’d like.”

“Oh, I’d love that.”

“Tell me, I don’t mean to pry, but why do I get the feeling your brother doesn’t like your boyfriend? Even though he saved you, if I understand correctly.”

Ophelia sighed, weary.

“Actually, they adore each other. They’ve been best friends since they joined the Royal Marines, but my brother can’t stand our new relationship… In fact, I was in Gibraltar to secretly meet my boyfriend, and he thinks that if it weren’t for this relationship, I wouldn’t have been caught up in the ferry ordeal…”

My God… her brother is a commando like Sebastian. No wonder, really… he has the look and the rigidity. But seriously, are they everywhere?

The novelist fixed her gaze on her bandage to emphasize her point, and Roxane took her hand in a comforting gesture, brushing away her own thoughts. She was moved by her patient’s story and sincerely hoped it would have a happy ending.

“Your brother seems a bit rigid, like most military men, but I’m sure he’ll eventually accept the truth that bothers him right now.”

The two women exchanged a knowing smile, and Ophelia instinctively felt she could confide in this stranger she had just met, with the strange sensation of having known her forever.

“Where is your boyfriend now?”

“He returned from Gibraltar yesterday and is in Scotland now, where his unit’s base is. He wrote to me saying he’d come see me as soon as possible.”

Roxane nodded, her expression still reassuring, then added as she packed up her medical supplies, “I’m sure he’ll visit you soon. Your brother isn’t in the same unit as him, then?”

“No, he’s based in Taunton.”

“Oh, I see. I know Taunton well.”

A different glimmer appeared in the nurse’s gray eyes, intriguing her patient, who might have asked about it if the doorbell hadn’t echoed through the house.

“I’ll get it!” a lilting voice called out.

It was certainly a young girl speaking, but Roxane didn’t see her right away. However, she heard her rushing down the stairs to answer the door.

“Godfather! I knew it was you!”

The same youthful voice rang out again, and Roxane cast an inquisitive look at Ophelia when she noticed her stiffen.

“Oh no, it’s him…”

She heard the novelist’s murmur and seemed to guess the identity of the new arrival.

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yes. My brother is going to want to talk to him, and that’s what I fear most.”

Ophelia seemed genuinely worried, and with a sense of solidarity, Roxane said with a conspiratorial wink, “Wait, I’ll do my best to help you.”

She then stood up from her stool, grabbed her backpack, and headed toward the entrance.

There, she found a tall soldier with chestnut hair and a wrinkled uniform standing in the vestibule. His exhaustion and the stress radiating from every cell of his body were evident in his striking blue eyes. This man was on edge, likely having jumped into his car at the first opportunity to get here.

Slightly shorter than him, the master of the house stood in his path with an austere posture, clearly unwilling to let him pass, while a ten- or eleven-year-old girl watched them nervously.

“I told you not to come, McKenna,” Ophelia’s older brother said coldly. “It’s still too fresh.”

“Listen, William, you’re one of the most important people in my life, but this time, stay out of it. OK?”

“Precisely, I’m staying out of it. You put my sister in danger, remember!”

“You know that’s not true.”

McKenna clenched his teeth and fists in frustration but didn’t lose his composure. Far from backing down, he held William’s hostile gaze with an unyielding stance.

“Let me see her, William.”

“No!”

“Please, Dad…” the young girl pleaded softly.

Roxane observed her and found her adorable with her black braids, Asian features, and lavender summer dress. She also bore a resemblance to her father in the shape of her straight nose and her lovely, full lips.

“Stay out of this, Aileen.”

“Sorry, Dad, but you can’t keep them apart. This is their story, not yours,” the girl replied with a maturity that stunned all the adults present. “My godfather and godmother need to talk, in private.”

Roxane stifled a small, astonished laugh with a cough, then clutched her belly as she deliberately dropped her backpack to the floor. The dull thud drew everyone’s attention, especially the dark-haired, brooding William, who turned away from the soldier to study her.

“Are you alright, Roxane?”

Roxane? Since when did she give you permission to call her by her first name? Get a grip, Will.

“Mmh… I think I might need a hand carrying my bag to the car. Would you mind helping me?” she asked with an irresistible look designed to disarm even the most stubborn of men.

Driven by his gallantry, William appeared at her side and even placed a concerned hand on her waist. Unprepared for such immediate physical closeness, she shivered to her toes, realizing how intense his warmth and scent were.

He’s very magnetic.

Help.

“Would you like me to carry you? Or drive you home?”

Initially flustered, Roxane felt a tickle in her throat as a laugh threatened to escape. She bit her lower lip to suppress it in the face of such attentiveness, then gave a discreet nod to Roy while taking William’s hand off her waist.

His hand was nearly twice the size of hers and could have belonged to a healer, so warm and comforting was its touch.

“Well… I’ve finished my rounds and was planning to do some shopping. But I don’t think I can manage on my own.”

“Where do you live?”

“Not far, about a fifteen- to twenty-minute walk or five minutes by car.”

“I’ll accompany you,” the captain declared firmly, tightening his grip on her hand without realizing the gesture was rather intimate.

Perfect. The lovebirds will have some privacy to talk, thought the nurse, smiling at the young girl who watched her with dark, admiring eyes.

Despite her young age, Aileen had grasped the subtlety of the plan and silently thanked the beautiful pregnant blonde.

However, William hadn’t entirely forgotten his initial problem and called out loudly to his friend, who had already slipped into the living room:

“McKenna, I don’t want to see you here when I get back!”

Moments later, he released her hand, suddenly aware of the unsettling intimacy, and stepped aside, controlling the slightly erratic rhythm of his breathing. Between the frustration caused by McKenna’s presence and the budding unease stirred by this unpredictable nurse, he was losing his composure.

“Shall we, Missus Wright?” he asked, quickly slipping on his dress shoes before grabbing a gray cardigan from the coat rack by the door.

He had resumed the formal tone of a royal servant.

“It’s Miss, actually,” she corrected with a smile as enigmatic as the Mona Lisa’s.

Oh, not married yet…

“Well then, Miss Wright, let’s leave this house before I do something I’ll regret.”

The contrast between his words and his courtesy sparked another glimmer of amusement in Roxane’s gray eyes, though her full lips remained composed.

Moments later, she led the way out of the house under Aileen’s watchful gaze.

Chapter 2♫Valerie – Amy Winehouse

Events were taking a rather amusing turn, breaking away from the monotony of her usual routines. She had just taken her patient’s brother for a ride in her car to give her patient some privacy with her boyfriend, ensuring he couldn’t interfere. But what was she supposed to do now with this stranger? Grocery shopping wasn’t really necessary; she had just needed an excuse to lure him out of the house.

“You know, Miss Wright, I’m well aware you’ve tricked me,” William said, looking at her from the passenger seat of her charming plum-colored Fiat 500.

Before today, he never would have imagined himself in a car of such an unconventional color, but he refrained from commenting and settled into the too-narrow seat, silently ­grumbling.

With her hands at ten and two on the steering wheel and her eyes fixed on the road, Roxane allowed herself a small, amused smile at his remark.

They had left the house a few minutes ago, where the tension between the two men likely still lingered in the air. If she hadn’t intervened, a fight would almost certainly have broken out, making the situation even more delicate.

“It seems to me that your sister and her boyfriend have a lot to talk about, and I think they’re perfectly capable of doing so without the watchful eye of an overly protective brother,” she noted, casting him a quick sidelong glance.

It’s none of your business, he wanted to reply, but he held back. There was no way he was going to be rude to such a charming and obliging young woman. She barely knew Ophelia, yet she had taken her side. It must be that famous female solidarity.

Resting his forearm on the door’s armrest, William began tapping it, suppressing a small grunt of dissatisfaction. He still couldn’t stomach the betrayal of his little sister and his best friend. They had been involved behind his back, despite his explicit rule forbidding his friends from dating her. To him, it was an unspoken rule in their imaginary code of honor.

A man didn’t go after his best friend’s, his brother-in-arms’ sister. End of story.

“Mmh… if you say so. He’d better be gone by the time I get back, or I’ll rearrange his face.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?”

“Not at all.”

He was convinced he was right, and Roxane thought she detected a stubborn, commanding personality in him, someone who was certain every decision he made was for the greater good, without much self-reflection. Perhaps he would ­reconsider with time.

Clearly tired of discussing his sister and his best friend, William forced himself to adopt a more relaxed expression and asked in a softer tone:

“Have you been a nurse for long?”

“Six years.”

“Have you always lived in Bath?”

“I was born in Bath, but I spent much of my childhood and teenage years in London. I moved back here after earning my nursing degree.”

“Strange, I’ve never run into you before.”

“Let’s just say Bath is both a small and a vast city.”

“You’re not wrong… though I don’t spend much time here because of my job. I’m a captain in the Royal Marines.”

“I had a feeling,” she replied with a smile in her voice. “You have all the traits of a fearless and unyielding captain.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

William allowed himself a smile, brief though it was, but she managed to capture it in her memory.

“Your baby, is it a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know yet.”

They were driving along the Royal Crescent, a residential complex of thirty Georgian-style houses arranged in a crescent around a beautiful, flowered esplanade with lush green grass. It was one of Roxane’s favorite spots in the city. Slightly unsettled by William’s presence, she wasn’t used to being around such a striking example of masculinity anymore, she focused on the elegant lines of the magnificent houses.

The Fiat 500 was midway through the crescent when, suddenly, a small figure darted across the road.

“Miss Wright!”

A chill ran down her spine as the nurse slammed on the brakes, seeing one of William’s hands grip the steering wheel to help keep it steady. The car came to an abrupt stop, and through the windshield, they saw the body of a small boy, about seven or eight years old, lying on the ground just inches from the wheels. Roxane hadn’t hit him; he must have fallen out of fear.

“Oh my God!”

William unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, ready to rush to the child.

Then, strange screeching noises caught their attention, and they saw a magnificent white swan crossing the road in pursuit. It approached the child, hissing aggressively.

Other passersby backed away, visibly alarmed, as Roxane unbuckled her seatbelt and twisted in her seat to grab the long umbrella lying on the back seat.

“We need to get the boy to safety! Captain, here’s an umbr—”

She didn’t finish her sentence before William had already leapt out of the car, circling it to position himself between the child and the animal. The swan was large and visibly furious—a male, very territorial.

William raised his muscular arms as the swan spread its impressive wings, hissing loudly before launching itself at him in a combative leap. The soldier quickly grabbed its neck with both hands, cursing as he tried to dodge its long beak. Moments later, Roxane saw them disappear in a whirlwind of feathers and screeches.

“Don’t strangle it, Captain!” she shouted, cautiously approaching them.

She had opened her large black umbrella and was using it as a shield. There was no longer a child to save; he had already gotten up and run to his parents before she even left the car.

“Damn bird!” she heard William mutter as the swan bit his forearm hard during the scuffle.

The commando managed to push the creature back several meters and turned to Roxane, covered in feathers and down in places. If the swan weren’t preparing to attack again, she might have burst out laughing at his face, which was both comical and endearing.

“Get back in the car; I’ll handle this!” he ordered, snatching the umbrella from her hands to wield it against the swan, which now encountered another obstacle.

It hissed, retreating angrily. Roxane didn’t argue and returned to her seat behind the wheel. Using the umbrella, William drove the animal a few meters to the side to clear the road, then swiftly closed his improvised shield and ran back to the Fiat 500. In a few quick movements, he was back in his seat, slamming the door shut.

“Are you okay, Captain? Did it hurt you?”

“It just nipped me; it’s nothing.”

Unaware she was still blocking a lane, Roxane frowned as she noticed the bruise forming on the commando’s left forearm.

“Believe me, Miss Wright, I’ve had far worse injuries,” he assured her with a small smirk, and she looked up to inspect his face.

He was unharmed, except for a few tufts of white down still clinging to his dark hair.

Noticing she was biting her lower lip, he asked in a curious tone:

“What is it?”

“You’ve got some lovely little feathers on your head, Captain.”

As his almond-shaped eyes widened, a crystalline laugh escaped her lips. She leaned toward him, reaching out to pluck the fluffy remnants from his hair. His hair brushed against her fingers, sending a sensation that traveled all the way to the nape of her neck.

“There, you look like a soldier again!”

This time, William relaxed and thanked her with a broad, warm smile, revealing teeth that were more like a lion’s fangs—perfect for devouring all his admirers.

Roxane turned away from his overly dazzling smile, as if blinded, and restarted the engine. They were about to set off again when the swan reappeared in their line of sight. Still seeking vengeance, the creature wasn’t finished with them yet.

“Good grief, it’s relentless! Back it up slowly,” he said as the swan charged toward them again, as if intent on crashing into the windshield.

Roxane shifted into first gear and slowly drove toward the swan, forcing it to retreat. Its large white wings spread wide, embracing the air, while its gleaming eyes turned opaque.

The scene was wildly beautiful, freezing them in place for a moment.

“For all its grumpiness, it’s still magnificent,” she noted, watching it finally retreat for good.

Without fully realizing it, she compared the swan to William and his gruff demeanor earlier with his best friend, which hadn’t diminished his rugged charm in the slightest.

“That was the first time I’ve ever fought a swan. My daughter’s going to find this hilarious,” he added with dry humor. “And to think, I thought they symbolized love.”

“Well, love can be quarrelsome and hurt you sometimes,” she replied, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

This comment suddenly piqued William’s curiosity. Was she speaking generally, or was she referring to her own experience? What kind of relationship did she have with her partner? And what might he be like?

He had no doubt about it—despite her insistence on being called “Miss,” this blonde doll surely had a man waiting for her at home, ready to pamper her after a long day’s work.

Perhaps he was a fellow healthcare worker or a classic literature professor who spent his days reciting poetry. Or maybe he was a paleontologist?

You’re rambling, Will… what’s the point of imagining her boyfriend?

A few minutes later, they found themselves near the Roman Baths of Bath. Roxane had parked her car near a shop and pulled a collapsible shopping basket from the trunk. In the end, she decided she might as well pick up a few things before heading home.

“Captain, I think I’ve kept you long enough.”