Enlisted by Love Read Free

that struck him as an invigorating change of pace, instead of being off-putting. He could take it slow, no problem.
    Okay, so far he was at
stop
, but that had never daunted Ian before and it wasn’t going to now.
    He sat on the floor — he didn’t have any living room furniture yet — and contemplated his situation. He looked around the empty room and tried very hard not to take it as an obvious metaphor for his life. Soon it would be full of furniture, and his life would be, too. So to speak. He could just drag the furniture from the storage unit and put it in place himself, get some curtains from J.C. Penney (he could imagine Greta’s expression if he told her that), and call it good.
    Still, he knew that calling it good and it actually being good were two different things. His new job required him to entertain regularly and to present himself as a knowledgeable, worldly man of some sophistication. He never doubted his ability to do the actual job, but he needed the house to showcase and reinforce the image he intended to project so that clients would be reassured that he could guide them through any difficulty.
    Or at least those difficulties that did not require the intervention of the State Department.
Suave and sophisticated
would be a good start.
Inept and pathetic
was not the impression he wished to portray. Somehow he sensed that left to his own devices, he might not accomplish his goal, at least as regarded interior design.
    He had great enthusiasm for his new job — his new purpose in life — and the Army had taught him everything he needed to know about the execution of a plan. He was certain, given enough time, that he could develop an appealing aesthetic sense, which had never been necessary before. But he was afraid that it was currently a little beyond his grasp. He didn’t think “develop an appealing aesthetic sense” was something he could learn by pulling a couple of all-nighters, and time was not on his side. He had to have everything in place sooner rather than later. Having found the job, he was inclined to keep it.
    He knew Greta would give him exactly the sophisticated yet personal touch he was looking for. She was the walking embodiment of class, all high polished gloss and subtle elegance. Blonde hair in a neat bun — Michael’s mother, Mrs. M, would call it a chignon. Greta probably did, too. He’d bet good odds she never allowed a strand to fall out of place. Carefully understated makeup, exquisitely tailored pantsuit, and blue eyes that dismissed him at a glance. What more could any man want?
    The first thing was to define the problem. Then he could devise a solution. To do that, he had to figure out why she didn’t want to cooperate. His ego, which was of a comfortable size and condition, wouldn’t let him believe that the reason she didn’t cooperate was because he personally repelled her. That was an unacceptable conclusion to reach, and Ian did not reach unacceptable conclusions, just as he did not fail when the Army sent him on a DNF mission. Besides, he had seen the spark in her eyes before she had blandly tucked it away. He knew she’d liked what she saw. So, what was the problem?
    That chilly blonde elegance might be an unshakeable facade but something boiled under the surface, he’d bet good money. Her brush-off hadn’t really been a reaction to
him
but to something he represented. Which meant that if she spent a little more time in his company, she’d have to see that it wasn’t him she disliked. Ergo, she’d start liking him. She’d have to. Everyone did.
    So what was the solution?
    Time to call in the reinforcements, he decided, and picked up the phone.
    â€¢ • •
    â€œI can’t believe you turned down Colonel Blake,” Tess exclaimed the next morning, coming into the command center — Greta’s bedroom. Greta stifled an inward groan. She should have known Mr. Blake