Joe leaned closer. “After I take care of my duty and give the Sergeant Major’s kid her tour. So which one is she? The one with the pigtails?”
“No.” Prudence was silent.
“Then she must be the one with the glasses.”
“Wrong again,” Prudence said coolly.
Joe frowned. “But he told me his daughter’s class was here for a tour.”
“His daughter’s class is here for a tour.”
Joe had a bad feeling. “You mean…?”
“That I’m the Sergeant Major’s daughter?” the sexy teacher said with a smug smile. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
Daddy in Dress Blues (SR #1470)
“Funny, sweet—I couldn’t put it down! One of Cathie Linz’s best books. Imagine a hard-core Marine trying to raise a three-year-old daughter by the Marine Corps training manual! Doesn’t that just about say it all?”
—New York Times bestselling author
Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Dear Reader,
I’m dreaming of summer vacations—of sitting by the beach, dangling my feet in a lake, walking on a mountain or curling up in a hammock. And in each vision, I have a Silhouette Romance novel, and I’m happy. Why don’t you grab a couple and join me? And in each book take a look at our Silhouette Makes You a Star contest!
We’ve got some terrific titles in store for you this month. Longtime favorite author Cathie Linz has developed some delightful stories with U.S. Marine heroes and Stranded with the Sergeant is appealing and fun. Cara Colter has the second of her THE WEDDING LEGACY titles for you. The Heiress Takes a Husband features a rich young woman who’s struggling to prove herself—and the handsome attorney who lends a hand.
Arlene James has written over fifty titles for Silhouette Books, and her expertise shows. So Dear to My Heart is a tender, original story of a woman finding happiness again. And Karen Rose Smith—another popular veteran—brings us Doctor in Demand, about a wounded man who’s healed by the love of a woman and her child.
And two newer authors round out the list! Melissa McClone’s His Band of Gold is an emotional realization of the power of love, and Sue Swift debuts in Silhouette Romance with His Baby, Her Heart, in which a woman agrees to fulfill her late sister’s dream of children. It’s an unusual and powerful story that is part of our THE BABY’S SECRET series.
Enjoy these stories, and make time to appreciate yourselves in your hectic lives! Have a wonderful summer.
Happy reading!
Mary-Theresa Hussey
Senior Editor
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For my “editor extraordinaire,” Jennifer Walsh, for loving my books and bragging about me. I hope we can work together on the next 40 books! And to all the readers who’ve bought my last 40 books, this one is for you!
Silhouette Romance
One of a Kind Marriage #1032
*Daddy in Dress Blues #1470
*Stranded with the Sergeant #1534
Silhouette Desire
Change of Heart #408
A Friend in Need #443
As Good as Gold #484
Adam’s Way #519
Smiles #575
Handyman #616
Smooth Sailing #665
Flirting with Trouble #722
Male Ordered Bride #761
Escapades #804
Midnight Ice #846
Bridal Blues #894
A Wife in Time #958
†Michael’s Baby #1023
†Seducing Hunter #1029
†Abbie and the Cowboy #1036
Husband Needed #1098
Silhouette Books
Montana Mavericks
“Baby Wanted”
left her career in a university law library to become a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romances. She is the recipient of the highly coveted Storyteller of the Year Award given by Romantic Times Magazine and was recently nominated for a Love and Laughter Career Achievement Award for the delightful humor in her books. Cathie enjoys spending time with her family, her two cats, her trusty word processor and her hidden cache of Oreo cookies!
Dear Reader,
I first met Joe Wilder while writing Daddy in Dress Blues (SR #1470), where he was the hero’s best friend. I knew Joe had to have a book of his own—he told me so himself many times. I also knew that Joe had some dark secrets up his sleeve. Since I wanted to know what they were, I sat down to write Joe’s story.
A U.S. Marine like Joe, a hunk who could give Mel Gibson a run for his money, needs a very special heroine. I got her name first. Prudence. Yes, a bad boy like Joe would need a prudent woman, one who wouldn’t melt at his first sexy smile, one who could see past his charm to the tortured soul inside.
Prudence has secrets, too. She knows what it is like to be consumed with guilt, so she wants to help Joe. But help isn’t something a U.S. Marine accepts easily, especially not from his commanding officer’s daughter!
I’ve loved writing about these heroic men who abide by the Marine Corps values of honor, courage and commitment. Come on, admit it—there’s just something special about a man in a U.S. Marine dress blues uniform! I hope you enjoy Joe and Prudence’s story and watch for more stories from me about these men of honor.
I enjoy hearing from my readers, so please visit my Web site at www.comet.net/writers/linz.
All the best,
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
“So, Wilder, I hear you jumped off another bridge this weekend.” Joe Wilder’s commanding officer pinned him with a steely-eyed glare. In his late forties, his military haircut tipped with gray, Sergeant Major Richard Martin had a drill instructor’s voice and a warrior’s demeanor. He reminded Joe of his own father.
“Actually I bungee-jumped, sir,” Joe corrected him with the utmost respect, trying to ignore the way the North Carolina sun bounced off the bright white walls of the Sergeant Major’s office. The glare made his head pound. He’d woken at 0600 hours with the mother of all hangovers. Joe knew he was in bad shape when merely looking at white wall paint made his head hurt. “I was attached to the structure with a cord.”
“I don’t care if you were attached to the structure with superglue,” Sergeant Major Martin growled. “You still jumped off. And I don’t approve. The
United States Marine Corps has spent a lot of time and money on your training, Wilder. I’d hate to see it all wasted with you splattered on a slab of concrete or some rocky riverbed somewhere. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you like jumping out off things that much, you should become a paratrooper.”
“Understood, sir.”
“I certainly hope so, Wilder.” Sergeant Major Martin tapped the folder on his desk impatiently. The sound was amplified tenfold by Joe’s hangover, but he showed no outward sign of his discomfort. A Marine never showed signs of discomfort. Honor, courage, commitment. These were the Marine Corps values. Not discomfort. Not guilt.
“Since you’ve been under my command your off-duty antics have gotten wilder and wilder,” Sergeant Major Martin continued. “Why is that?”
Because the risk-taking made Joe feel alive. That’s why he did it. To get away from the ever-present nightmares that seemed to be eating him up inside, to escape from the pain and the guilt.
Not that he’d ever tell Sergeant Major Martin that. Not that he’d tell anyone that. Everyone thought Joe was just a wild thrill-seeker. Wilder. It wasn’t just his name, it had become his attitude.
Which was fine by him. But apparently not fine by his commanding officer. “Your aforementioned wild behavior stops as of right now,” the older man ordered in a clipped voice.
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ll be turning over a new leaf. Starting immediately. I’d like you to escort my daughter’s sixth-grade class for a tour of the base here.”
Joe blinked, certain he couldn’t have heard correctly. “Sir?”
“You heard me.”
“I am not that familiar with the base yet, sir,” Joe felt compelled to say. He’d only recently been assigned here to Camp Lejeune in coastal North Carolina after completing an overseas deployment he’d rather not think about. Ever. “I’m not sure I’m qualified to give a tour.”
“I think you’re qualified, Wilder, and that’s all that matters. I did plan on having Sergeant Brown do the honors, but he had to have emergency surgery last night on a ruptured appendix. So you’ll be taking his place.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And after you give them the tour, you’ll be going with them this afternoon on a weekend field trip up into the mountains.”
“A field trip, sir?”
“That’s right, Wilder. Why the look? Surely after your Marine training, not to mention your love of extreme sport activities, you’re not telling me you’re afraid of a bunch of kids?”
“No, sir.” That much was true. Afraid didn’t even come close to the feelings churning in Joe’s gut. Panic would be a much more accurate description.
“Glad to hear it. The class is waiting for you down the hall in conference room 1013. Once you’ve completed the tour, you’ll have one hour to gather the necessary equipment, sleeping bag, etc., that you’ll need for a weekend camping trip. The route is already laid out for you, following the Sunshine Trailhead in the Blue Ridge Mountains. A three- or four-hour drive to the other side of the state. Here.”
Joe willed his hand not to shake as he reached out to take the topographical hiking map.
“My daughter, Prudence, is my little princess, my only child. So I don’t want anything ruining this field trip for her. Do you have any questions, Wilder?”
Thousands of them. Why me? Why now? But he bolted those questions down and instead said, “No, sir.”
“Good. Glad to hear it. Get a move on then. They’re waiting for you, Wilder. Dismissed.”
Kids. Why did it have to be kids? Joe stared at his pale reflection in the men’s bathroom mirror.
It was only one weekend. Surely he could handle one weekend. He’d handled worse things. He’d…survived.
Joe rubbed the ache between his eyes before reaching into his pocket for the two aspirins he’d meant to take before seeing his commanding officer. He felt like a wimp for taking the analgesic, but he needed to dump this headache so that he could think of a way to dump this assignment.
Of course there was no way he’d refuse an order from his commanding officer. He was a Marine through and through. He’d never willingly be derelict in his duties.
What about that day two months ago? a little voice in his head said. If you’d done your duty two months ago and gotten on that helicopter, another man wouldn’t have died in your place.
Gritting his teeth, Joe willed the memories away. He needed to keep his act together here. One step at a time. First he’d locate his commanding officer’s daughter.
The walk down the hallway from the men’s room to the conference room was one of the longest he’d ever taken. To his relief there was another adult in the room. A woman. A good-looking woman. The teacher.
Ignoring all the sixth-graders, he focused his attention on her. Dark brown shoulder-length hair, chocolate-brown eyes, lush mouth, good figure showed off in a pair of well-fitting if conservative khaki pants and white T-shirt. She had a colorful scarf jauntily tied around her neck. She looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties. And she was definitely attractive.
Joe’s panic lessened. Here was one area where he still felt like a pro—the male/female arena. This was something he still excelled at, charming women. Flirting was second nature to him.
It started with his smile. He watched her reaction to it. Surprise and appreciation flashed in her dark eyes. Not for long, but long enough for him to catch it.
“Sorry I’m late, ma’am.” He added a touch of remorse to his expression.
“And you are?”
“Sergeant Wilder. Sergeant Joe Wilder at your service, ma’am. Before we begin our tour, I’ve got a question.” He drew the teacher aside to a quieter corner. “Which one is she?”
The sexy teacher gave him a blank look. “Excuse me?”
“Which one is Sergeant Major Martin’s daughter?”
“Why do you want to know?” She sounded curious.
“Because I’ve been ordered to give her the deluxe tour of the base and I want to be nice to her.”
“I don’t think you should single her out for any special treatment.”
“Hey, I’m just following orders here.”
“Right. Semper fi. A Marine always does his duty.” Her voice held a new edge.
“You don’t sound very pleased about that. I wonder why? Did you date a Marine or something?”
“That’s a safe bet,” she retorted. “Since this base is home to the largest concentration of Marines and sailors in the world, it would be hard to avoid bumping into a Marine in this part of North Carolina.”
“I wouldn’t mind bumping into you,” Joe murmured with a lopsided grin. “Just name the time and place.”
“I no longer date Marines,” she loftily informed him.
“Why’s that?”
“My reasons are too lengthy to go into here.”
“I’ve got time.” He was certainly in no hurry to have to deal with the kids.
“Well, I don’t,” she replied in irritation. The way she tossed her head and flicked her hair away from her face reminded him of a feral cat he’d tamed as a kid. That cat had refused to let anyone touch it, but Joe had slowly and patiently won it over. That same patience had come in handy where women were concerned.
“So tell me later.”
“Why should I do that?” she said.
“Because I’m a nice guy?”
“Who thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”
Ouch. So the little cat had claws. Placing his open hand on his chest, he said, “You wound me, ma’am.”
“I sincerely doubt that, Sergeant. I sincerely doubt any woman has wounded you.”
“Why? Because I’m a big, tough Marine?”
“Because you use your charm to keep them at a distance.”
“Hey, if I’m using my charm to keep women at a distance, then something is definitely wrong with my game plan.”
“Game plan? Don’t you mean your battle plan?”
“As in battle between the sexes?” Joe moved closer, so that he could smell her perfume. It was tart and citrusy.
Shifting his attention to that lush smart-talking mouth of hers, he wondered if she’d taste as good as she smelled. Oh, yeah, he had no doubt she’d taste better than a cold beer after a long hike.
He had to grin at his own lack of poetry. Beer and a long hike…that sounded like something his best friend Curt Blackwell would say about his new wife, Jessie.
Joe and Curt had gone to boot camp together and been buddies ever since. Curt was a brooding loner, but that didn’t seem to stop the ladies from lining up for him. Still, Curt had come to Joe for advice when it mattered, when he’d been reunited with Jessie after years apart.
Joe’s advice was good. Jessie had apparently agreed, because she’d become Curt’s wife last year in a full Marine dress wedding with Joe there as Curt’s best man.
Yeah, this male/female flirting stuff was something Joe could still handle with one arm tied behind his back…although he’d have preferred having one arm around the sexy schoolteacher’s shoulders.
She was narrowing her chocolate-brown eyes at him, as if she were able to read his thoughts and wanted to challenge him on their accuracy. Great. He loved a challenge. Especially one that involved a good-looking woman.
“I take it you consider yourself to be an expert in the battle between the sexes,” she said.
“My motto is make love, not war.”
“I’m sure that didn’t come out of the U.S. Marine Procedural Manual.”
“If you’ve been dating guys who base their romantic approach on the Marine Procedural Manual, then I can understand your dissatisfaction,” he murmured. “And I’d love to have the chance to show you how a real Marine woos a woman.” He leaned closer as if tempting her to kiss him, before leaning away to smile at the startled awareness in her eyes. “After I take care of my duty and give the Sergeant Major’s kid her tour. Which one is she? The one with the pigtails and strange socks?”
“No.”
He scanned the roomful of kids, trying to look for some kind of familial resemblance. “Then she must be the one with the short haircut and glasses.”
“Wrong again,” she said coolly.
“Are we going to play twenty questions all day or are you going to tell me which kid is the Sergeant Major’s?”
“A few minutes ago you told me you had plenty of time.”
“A few minutes ago I did have time until…”
“You wasted it flirting with me?” she countered mockingly.
“Look, cut me some slack here, would you?” he said in exasperation. “I’m having a bad day. Just tell me which kid is the Sergeant Major’s so I can figure out where to go from here with this tour stuff. I’m only following…”
“Orders,” she completed the sentence for him. “Yes, I heard you the first time you said that.”
“So what’s the problem?” Joe demanded.
“The problem is that none of these children are Sergeant Major Martin’s.”
Joe frowned. “But that’s not possible. He told me his daughter’s class was here for a tour.”
“His daughter’s class is here for a tour.”
Joe had a bad feeling. “You mean…?”
“That I’m Sergeant Major Martin’s daughter?” the sexy teacher said with a smug smile that didn’t bode well for him. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
Prudence Martin watched chagrin flash across Joe Wilder’s handsome face. She’d never seen eyes so Mel Gibson blue. In fact, this Marine favored Mel in several ways—same color brown hair, same square jaw, same humorous glint in his so-blue eyes. Although she could have sworn that she’d seen a glimpse of panic when he’d first entered the room, now she thought she must have imagined it.
He had the same erect military posture of most Marines, but Joe Wilder had something else. A presence. The kids noticed it. They’d quieted noticeably since his arrival.
The khaki service uniform he wore, with its crisp shirt and matching tie and web belt with darker trousers, wasn’t the best color in the world on most men, but she doubted anything looked bad on this man.
And she was stuck spending the weekend with him. Some women might dream of spending time with a sexy man in uniform. Not her.
“Sorry for the confusion, ma’am,” Joe was saying, his voice as smooth as the rest of him. “When your father referred to you as his little princess, I naturally thought…”
“The wrong thing,” she interrupted him to say. She hated her father’s nickname for her. Little Princess. Just hearing it set her teeth on edge.
“I see that now.” The earlier once-over visual he’d given her was back, only much more restrained now that he knew she was his commanding officer’s daughter. Prudence was used to that information making a difference with men—with Marines in particular. Which was one of the major reasons she avoided contact with them.
She’d agreed to have Sergeant Brown accompany her on this field trip because she’d known the man since she was a kid. He was as old as her father and a personal friend.
The same was not true of Joe Wilder.
She’d have to tell her father he wouldn’t do for this assignment. He’d have to find her someone else. Until then, they might as well begin the tour of the base. There was no reason Joe couldn’t do that. She’d then speak to her father about a replacement for the remainder of the weekend.
“Okay, class, listen up now. Sergeant Wilder is here to begin our tour of the base. He’s going to give you some background information about the history of the base and then begin the actual tour. Go ahead, Sergeant Wilder.”
She was a bit surprised by the deer-in-the-headlights look Joe gave the gathered group of twenty-five kids. Maybe speaking in front of a group wasn’t his thing? But then a Marine never showed any fear. And Joe was no different. His voice was strong, his demeanor confident as he began speaking.
“Listen up, everyone. You may address me as either Sergeant Wilder or sir. I’d like to welcome you all today to Camp Lejeune, a United States Marine Corps base, where we train the Marine Air/Ground Task Forces defending our country. Okay, let’s start the tour.” He seemed in a big hurry to get out of the small conference room all of a sudden.
“First tell the class a bit more about the base’s history,” Prudence suggested.
“Well,” he drawled, “the base has been here a long time, ma’am.”
“How long?” she pressed, enjoying putting him on the spot. There was something about the confidently sexy smile he’d flashed at her when he’d first walked into the room that had irked her. Equally irritating was her own response, the quickening of her heartbeat, the awareness of his vivid blue eyes and good looks.
And then there was that moment when he’d leaned close as if to kiss her. She hadn’t been expecting that. She’d gotten used to men keeping their distance.
Turning to the class, Joe said, “Anyone know how long the base has been here?”
Two hands shot up. Since Joe had asked the question, she let him select which student would answer. He picked Pete Greene, a whiz with facts and figures. “Since World War Two, uh, 1941 to be exact, sir.”
“Okay, let’s start the tour,” Joe said again.
Prudence held out a hand, stopping the mass exodus. “I think the class would like to know where the base got its name.”
“Why did they name it after a legume?” Rosa Santos asked. “Aren’t peanuts legumes?”
“It’s Lejeune, dummy,” Pete replied on Joe’s behalf. “And it’s huge, over 153,000 acres.”
Sinatra Washington raised his hand, his silver-rimmed glasses glinting against his dark mocha complexion. “Sergeant Wilder, tell them about the fifty-four live-fire ranges, eighty-nine maneuver areas, thirty-three gun positions and twenty-five tactical landing zones.”
“Maybe you should lead this tour,” Joe replied. “Where did you get all that information?”
“From the Internet, sir.” Sinatra, one of her most curious students and an avid fan of the Internet, held up the sheet of paper he’d printed from his computer.
Not wanting to be left behind in any statistical discussion, Pete said, “I read about that, too. You both failed to mention the state-of-the-art Military Operations in Urban Terrain training facility.”
“I’m telling you, these kids don’t need me here at all.” Joe’s voice may have been filled with humorous teasing, but she suspected there was an underlying element of fact there. He didn’t want to be here. He wasn’t comfortable around the kids. Oh, he tried not to show it, but there was a definite tenseness in his stance.
“Camp Lejeune has a self-guided tour with twenty-five points of interest,” Sinatra stated.
“Self-guided, huh?” Joe repeated.
“Yes, sir. There’s even a tour book that coordinates with the signs for each numbered point of interest.”
“Self-guided. Well, that’s great. Then you definitely don’t need me,” Joe stated with a hearty laugh.
“You’re here to answer any questions,” Prudence reminded him.
He wanted to tell her that to do that he’d have to have access to the tour book, which the kid with the glasses and strange name seemed to have printed off the Internet. He wanted to tell her that he’d only been at the base a few weeks, he wanted to tell her he wasn’t as dumb as he sounded. But most of all he wanted to get the heck out of here. Which meant starting the tour, whether he knew what he was talking about or not.
“This building houses base headquarters,” Joe said as he opened the door and headed down the hallway. If the kids wanted to follow him, fine. No way was he staying in that tiny claustrophobic room with twenty-five kids a second longer. Flirting with her had distracted him for a while, but now that he knew the sexy teacher was off-limits, he didn’t have anything to keep his mind off of the panic.
“The outside of the building looks like my church, only bigger,” Rosa said as she followed him into the hallway, as did all the other kids and along with their rebellious teacher. “Redbrick with that fancy white thing on top.”
“A cupola.” At least that was one answer he could supply.
Rosa frowned up at Joe. “I thought he was the director of the movie The Godfather.”
“That’s Francis Ford Coppola,” Pete said, rolling his eyes at her.
“An easy mistake to make,” Joe said, wanting to keep moving. “As I said, you’re inside Base Headquarters. From here the Commanding General oversees the daily workings of the entire base.”
“And how many Marines would that include?” Prudence asked.
The teacher had it out for him. Joe could tell by the questions she asked and by the way her lush mouth turned up in what he was coming to believe was a diabolical, if sexy, smile each time she asked them.
Fine, honey. Two can play at that game.
“Sinatra, how many Marines would that be?” Joe said.
Consulting his printout first, Sinatra said, “Approximately fifty thousand Marines, Navy personnel, civilian employees and military families, sir.”
Joe liked this kid. As they passed the front lobby with its small display of historical swords, Sinatra discreetly passed him a copy of the self-guided tour book.
“Thanks,” Joe murmured.
“I know what’s it’s like to be picked on,” Sinatra told him with a reassuring smile.
Jeez, he’d come to this. A middle school teacher was picking on him. Him. Joe Wilder. An experienced United States Marine. Being picked on, not picked up as was often the case, by a woman. A sexy woman. A woman who was completely off-limits to him, seeing as how she was his commanding officer’s “little princess.”
He had to find a way to get out of this assignment.
The tour went more smoothly once he had the guidebook in his possession. He was able to tell the class about the massive live oak tree that was estimated to be over 350 years old. When one cocky kid asked him for the Latin name of the tree, he was even able to give that—Quercus virginiana.
Things got a little trickier in the barracks. There was something unexpectedly provocative about being with Prudence in a room filled with so many mattresses. Maybe he wasn’t as bad off as he thought if he could think of sex at a time like this.
Of course, another way of looking at things was that he was truly certifiable to be entertaining the thought of his commanding officer’s daughter and the word sex in the same sentence.
And then there were all the kids, swarming around in masses and sucking all the oxygen from the room.
“These beds are so little,” Pete noted in surprise. “And they’re bunk beds.”
“Here in the Marine Corps, your bed is your rack,” Joe automatically corrected him.
“A rack, huh? It looks like something you’d get tortured on,” Pete agreed.
Torture was being in such close confines with so many kids. Even his first day of boot camp hadn’t made him this jumpy.
“These beds…er, racks,” Pete quickly corrected himself, “are really clean.”
“That’s because Marines have to learn how to make perfectly folded forty-five-degree corners on the sheets when they make their racks,” Prudence said.
“No way!” Pete’s brown eyebrows shot up. “Marines have to make beds…er…racks?”
“Affirmative,” Joe said. “They have to learn the Marine way of making their racks.”
“You see, in the Marine Corps there’s only one right way of doing things and that’s the Marine way,” Prudence said in a mocking voice. Turning to Joe she said, “Tell the kids about the rest of Marine terminology. The floor is called…”
She was the daughter of a Marine, she knew what it was called. She simply wanted to wipe the deck with him. Daddy’s little princess, indeed. Spoiled rotten needed to be added to that description. How dare she mock his beloved Marine Corps? He and the men she mocked put their lives on the line to protect her little fanny. But did she care? Clearly not.
Narrowing his eyes at her, Joe straightened his already ramrod straight shoulders. “The floor is a deck,” he barked, startling her. Good. “To your right and left are bulkheads, not walls. Windows are ports. Above is an overhead, not a ceiling. Upstairs and downstairs do not exist. Instead we use topside and down below. You are facing forward. To your left is port and to your right is starboard. Behind you is aft.”
“My dad has a boat and he uses those words,” Pete said, hurriedly adding, “sir.”
“The terms are a result of the Marine Corps early origins as a sea service,” Joe said.
The tour ended at the Beirut Memorial, commemorating those who died in the 1983 bombing of Battalion Landing Team 1/8’s Headquarters in Lebanon. Joe found it impossible to speak. For once, Prudence was quiet.
By the time the class returned to base headquarters, Joe had regained his self-control. He fielded the kids’ questions as best he could on everything from the possibility of a top secret Marine Corps group that trained to protect earth from extraterrestrial life-forms to why his uniform was green.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.