Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors #5)

Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors #5) Page 23

Daniel jumped back as if burned. "Were you going to tell me you're awake? I damn near threw my back out carrying you."

Angling up on her elbow, she started to bristle, the thrown-out-back comment coming mighty damn close on the heels of his pale-hag remark. She looked deeper, found an edgy tension in him that she might have attributed to their dangerous position, except with her own eyes opening and her defenses lowering, she recognized the glint well.

Desire. He wanted her. Bad. Or rather, oh-so-good.

A trill of feminine power sounded through her. It had been so long since she'd felt attractive. She and Danny may have kissed, but only when either she'd come on to him or when they'd been in a full-body press with her leg nestled between his. Against him.

Oh yeah, she remembered him very well.

"Put your back out? Liar." She sat the rest of the way up and tucked her legs to the side, the gentle glide of the enclosed waves of the water bed undulating against her suddenly sensitive skin. "I think you got a he-man kick out of carrying me in here."

He snagged his survival vest from the floor beside the bed. "Why don't you try to sleep? I should be through before you wake up."

Through? Encroaching panic edged out desire. "Where are you going?"

"To scope the area. Set some warning devices in place."

Warning devices. Her throat closed. She'd just assumed the distant locale and Danny's weaponry would be enough protection, and that she and Danny could use this rustic-haven time to sort through past feelings.

Present feelings.

She wasn't sure whether to be reassured or scared spit-less that he saw the need for more security.

Mary Elise swung her legs off the side of the bed. "Tell me what to do."

"Sleep."

"Get real."

"I mean it." He jerked on the green mesh vest, the knife sheathed in black leather attached to his shoulder a harsh reminder of real-world worries. "Rest. You're no good to me dead on your feet."

"Sleep can come later. I may be a little groggy." Understatement. She wished Kathleen had been less pushy with the muscle relaxants. "But I'm far from passing out. The sooner we have this place secured, the sooner I can get that rest you keep insisting I need. Do you really think I could just kick back now?"

"You did in the car."

"That was different. There was nothing I could do."

He buckled a gear belt around his waist with canteens—a gun holster. He pulled free the 9 mm, tugged out the magazine, checked, clicked it in place again before returning the weapon to the holster with clean efficiency. "How about whip up something to eat."

No way was she playing Betty Crocker to his John Wayne. "Oh, yeah, that's really a pressing survival issue right now after the two Big Macs and order of supersize fries you banged back in the car."

The first signs of a grin creased the corners of his eyes. "Well, I'm still hungry. You know me. Never full, jaws just get tired of chewing."

"Great. If Kent finds us, I'll toss up a smoke screen by burning some fried Spam."

Mary Elise shadowed him around the tiny cabin, staying smack dab in his peripheral line of sight. Danny swung his foot up onto the arm of the brown plaid sofa and tucked a second knife inside his boot.

Suppressing a shiver over just the thought of him having to use it, she stepped closer. "Give me something constructive to do or I'm going to follow you around and be a real pain in the butt. You should know from our growing-up years, I can do it."

"You're already doing it right now," he mumbled without glancing her way.

"Good. Now give me a job that doesn't involve a spatula." Her hand fell to his forearm. Gripped. Held with a determination she infused in her voice as well. "Danny, I won't be relegated to a passive role ever again."

He dropped his foot to hardwood floor, a sigh riding a long trip out his lungs. "Do you know how to shoot?"

"I took lessons after I arrived in Rubistan." Never again would she be caught unprepared. And as much as she wanted to find a peaceful middle ground with Danny, she would battle him to the end for her right to defend herself.

Daniel recognized well the dogged glint in Mary Elise's steady gaze. The woman was in full fighting form.

At least she wasn't gliding those soft hands up his body with a distraction he couldn't afford. Security came first.

And after?

He'd face that later. And pray that by then he could remember all the reasons why he shouldn't lay her back on that water bed and rediscover every inch of her.

First priority, arm Mary Elise with a weapon.

Hooking his hands under the end of the sofa, Daniel hefted the far edge a couple feet to the right. He flipped back the edge of the brown braid rug and knelt, working his fingers down the ridges in the boarded floor.

"Danny?"

"Shhh." He waved her silent as he concentrated on finding … bull's eye.

He pried three loose boards up, revealing, just as Max promised, a small gun safe. Spinning up the combination, Daniel opened the door. A gasp sounded from behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

"I just didn't expect to see that."

He tracked her wide-eyed gaze down to the two handguns—a Browning M9 and a .45 automatic—surrounded by stacks of ammunition. "What do you think we do for a living?"

"You fly planes. Spike investigates. I mean, well, I figured you took a gun with you on missions or assignments, like the one in your closet. I just didn't expect to see all of this here, too."

"Maybe Spike packs a little more firepower than some of us. But like a cop, a military serviceman is never off duty." He dug out ammo and tossed it on the sofa. Sitting on the couch, he checked and began loading both weapons.

She eased down beside him. "Never off duty?"

"Back when you were working for the paper," he answered without taking his eyes off his task, "if you got a three-day weekend, you could hop a plane and go anywhere you wanted as long as you were back at work on time."

"Yeah. So?"

"If I travel outside the area, I have to apply for official leave and let admin know where I'll be at all times. Even on a weekend."

"Why?"

"We may not sit alert anymore, but we're always on call, 24/7." He pressed bullets into the magazine. Click. Click. Click against the spring action. "If the world goes to hell, we have to be ready to roll."

She sank down beside him. "How can you live that way?"

"How can I not?" With the heel of his palm, he jammed the magazine home on the 9 mm.

That she even had to ask the question offered a great big reason why he should reconsider a mattress dance with this woman.

"Darcy said you have … connections."

"She did?" His fingers paused in loading the .45, a damned big gun with even bigger stopping power.

"What kind of connections?"

He didn't answer. Couldn't. More reasons to avoid sleeping with anyone he genuinely cared about.

Whoa. Back up, Echoes of emotionally unavailable ricocheted like an out-of-control bullet in his skull.

"Danny?"

"I fly airplanes."

She waited.

He rolled a bullet between two fingers. "There's a lot more to being in the military than fighting wars, and that includes things we can't talk about. At times we walk out the door with no indication of where we're going or when we'll be home. Some of those missions bring connections."

End of discussion. He had more current concerns, anyway. Like keeping her alive.

And deciphering why he felt anything but emotionally unavailable at the moment.

He placed the 9 mm in her hands before she could press him to talk anymore. "Don't aim unless you're willing to follow through." Daniel tucked the .45 into his survival vest and strode toward the door.

She followed. "If you have problems with me pitching in once we step through the door, you're just going to have to get over yourself."

The pounding of her determined steps echoed behind him.

An all-out smile pulled free, so damned incongruous at the moment that he smiled even more. For better or worse, emotionally unavailable was never an option around Mary Elise. A low chuckle rode up and out. "That's my girl."

"What?"

He stopped her in the open doorway, palming the metal frame over her head. And it hit him, full force like the power of the so-damned-pretty green eyes staring back at him. He knew just what had him smiling in the middle of the worst day of his life. "You're back."

"Pardon me?"

Grazing his knuckles along her cheek, over skin still a shade too pale but the woman beneath humming with renewed vitality that had nothing to do with medications. "Before, you were half here, holding pieces away from me."

"I thought we already covered why I felt I couldn't tell you—"

With one finger to her lips, he silenced her. "That's not what I meant. You were holding pieces of yourself back, but not anymore. You're here and in my face, and, yeah, it can be annoying as hell, but I'm so damned glad to see you again, I can't bring myself to do anything more than…"

Screw wise decisions. He'd have to deal with enough of those after he finished securing the perimeter and locked himself inside alone with Mary Elise who deserved a helluva lot more than what he had to offer.

He kissed her, hard, fast and on the mouth before pulling back. His hand still cupped her head, fingers in tangled red curls that would cling to his memory.

"Welcome home, Mary Elise. I missed you."

Eyes fixed on the purples and mauves of the darkening skyline as she jogged down the cabin steps, Mary Elise wondered how the world could look so level when surely the ground under her feet tipped decidedly to the left. Right when she had her feet steady under her, purpose set… Bam! Danny shook things up again.

Welcome home, Mary Elise.She followed Daniel, hand on the wooden rail just to be safe from the rocking-world problem, and tried to reconcile the conflicting images. The man who'd stroked such a gentle caress down her face was the same man who'd dug out an arsenal from under the floorboards. And both fascinated her.

I missed you.

Shadowed by the graceful arch of an oak, Daniel popped the hatch on the SUV and reached inside, providing too tempting a view. Sheesh. She might as well be nineteen again given the way her hormones were acting.

From deep inside, he pulled a stack of buckets. "Before you get your knickers in knot, I'm not asking you to mop a floor." He glanced back over his shoulder.

Busted. Scavenger birds squawked a mocking call from the shoreline. A grin teased her lips as she gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence so overplayed she knew she hadn't fooled him for a second.

How bizarre to feel lighthearted with the worst of threats looming. Not unlike that moment years ago when Daniel had scooped her up in his arms, and while she knew they were both in a mess, somehow his smile made it okay.

A tickle of unease fluttered in her stomach.

She didn't want to depend on anyone for her happiness. And most of all, she did not want to be a little in love with Daniel Baker again.

He hefted out another bag, a jingling sounding inside. She peered inside to find…

"Twenty-penny nails."

Large. Spike-size. Well there was a hefty dose of reality for a girl. "What am I supposed to do with these?"

"Hang tough and watch. You'll need to do this with twenty-three more buckets."

Daniel sat on the back bumper, a handful of the metal spikes beside him. One by one he shoved three through the plastic on one side, then three more on the other. An industrialsize roll of duct tape in his hand, he encircled the outside to secure the nail heads so the points angled slightly down on the inside.