Blurb:
They may be back on British soil, but the battle isn’t over.
When Captain Hugh Wilkes fell
for his Afghan interpreter, Rustam Balkhi, he always knew things would never be
easy. After months of complete secrecy, their return to England should have
spelt an end to the sneaking around and the insane risks. But it seems there
are many obstacles for them to overcome before they can truly be happy
together. Can they get past those obstacles, or is this one battle too many for
their fledgling relationship?
Author’s note:
Although this story does work as a standalone tale, it’s recommended that you
read the first instalment of the characters’ journey first—Desert
Heat, which is available from all good retailers.
**For those of you that haven’t yet read Desert Heat either, there’s a great value double pack containing
both books available exclusively on Amazon (from 14th May), which is available for lending, and for
Kindle Unlimited members: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/desert-heat-native-tongue/
**
Excerpt:
Captain Hugh Wilkes drummed
enthusiastically on the steering wheel of his car as he drove it up the M3
towards London. He sung loudly and tunelessly along to the song on the radio,
too, but it didn’t matter. No one could hear him.
He’d surprised himself by being
so chilled out about the volume of Friday evening traffic. He wasn’t the most
patient of people, so the slow progress should probably have been increasing
his blood pressure, if not leading to full on road rage. But, although he’d
have loved to be actually achieving the speed limit, not bumbling along at a
mere fifty miles per hour, Wilkes was just glad the traffic was moving at all.
Britain’s roads, the motorways in particular, soon came to a standstill if
there was so much as a tiny bump between two vehicles. So any progress was
better than none.
Besides, what could he do about
it? His only other options to get to London from his base in Wiltshire were a
train, or stealing a plane, helicopter or tank. The latter might just cause a
little bit of bother, and mean the end of his army career, not to mention
criminal charges. The former meant cramming in amongst sweaty, disgruntled
commuters. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d be charged an extortionate amount to
do so, probably wouldn’t even get a seat, and would likely be subjected to
delays.
At least driving took him from
door to door, with plenty of personal space. And if there were delays, well, he
could sit them out from the comfort of his own vehicle, with the climate
control set to the perfect temperature, and the radio blasting some of his
favourite tunes.
The next song was even better,
and Wilkes’ tuneless wailing became more enthusiastic, as did the drumming on
the steering wheel. He was in one hell of a good mood, and if he was truthful
with himself, he knew it wasn’t just the fact the M3 was moving at a nice pace.
It wasn’t the Friday feeling, either. Sure, both of those things were
contributing to his happiness, but the main reason he was grinning like a
buffoon was the thought of what awaited him in the capital. Or rather, who.
Rustam Balkhi. His gorgeous
Afghan boyfriend, whom he’d met out in Afghanistan while they were working
together for the British Army. Now, with their tour of duty over and the
forces’ presence pulled out of the country, the two men had returned to
England. Wilkes had gone back to his regular army life in Bulford Camp, near
Salisbury. Balkhi was in London, where he’d recommenced the medical training
he’d postponed to become an interpreter for the Brits.
The past few weeks had been
somewhat of a whirlwind. Wilkes’ return to the UK had been straightforward, but
Balkhi had had to jump through some hoops in order to get back onto his medical
course. He’d been willing to start from scratch, but it’d seemed like an awful
waste of time, so Wilkes had spoken to his superiors, who’d explained to the
university what important work Balkhi had been doing. Fortunately, they’d been
persuaded of Balkhi’s commitment and character, and allowed him to pick up
where he’d left off. That settled, Balkhi had to pack up, travel back to the
UK, find somewhere to live, move in… and all before the start of the next
academic term.
Wilkes had felt terrible. His
return had taken place a few weeks before Balkhi’s, so although he’d been
granted some leave for R&R, he hadn’t been able to either spend it with
Balkhi, or to use it help him with his relocation. By the time Balkhi had set
foot on British soil, Wilkes was back to work. And, given nobody knew about the
two of them, or even that Wilkes was gay, he couldn’t exactly ask for more
leave in order to help his boyfriend move into his new flat.
Life had conspired against them
ever since, so this was the first opportunity they’d had to see each other
since saying goodbye in Afghanistan all those weeks ago. They’d communicated
via email, text message and phone calls, but it just wasn’t the same.
Especially since they’d gone from seeing each other every single day for the
best part of six months to not setting eyes on each other for weeks on end.
Wilkes had struggled terribly
in the interim. Life had been tough enough while they were still out in the
desert. After weeks and weeks of trying desperately to ignore their growing
attraction, they’d finally given in to it. It had been stupid and risky, but,
having quickly realised there was more to their attraction than the physical,
they’d decided to carry on their relationship in secret while they were in
Afghanistan, see how it went, and figure things out once Wilkes’ tour of duty
was over. Balkhi had always intended to return to the UK for his studies, so
they would, at least, be living in the same country.
*****
Author Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy
woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and
pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the
pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's
Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing,
and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a
small publishing house. She owns Erotica
For All, is book editor for Cliterati,
and is one eighth of The Brit Babes.
Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk.
Join her on Facebook and
Twitter, and subscribe to her
newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
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