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Nodding, she still faced away. “We had a fuel leak, so we turned back. The plane caught on fire once we opened the wheel well to lower the gear. Air rushed in, feeding the spilled gas and heat,” she answered without turning, her overly controlled tones drifting back. “We landed, ran fast, so it wasn’t a problem.”
His mind filled in the blanks from her understated account too well. He leaned closer to her ear and lowered his voice. “You aren’t hurt and hiding it, are you? You’re only a few days out of the hospital.”
She tensed under his hands. “I’m fine. No need just to take my word for it. Cutter will have to check us all out, anyway. You can relax. Military airplanes catch on fire more often than you would think. Crusty over there’s probably got the seventy-two-hour history form memorized. It’s just a coincidence that it happened now.”
“Do you really believe that, Darcy?”
Her shoulders trembled under his grip, and he wanted to get her out of here where he could hold her. Finally she turned to face him. Soot streaked along one tanned cheek.
It had been that close. The monster responsible was that desperate.
His hold tightened on her shoulders as if he could keep her grounded and safe through his sheer force of will. A temporary measure. Even though he knew this accident was linked to his case, she still faced similar hazards daily—an unsettling notion he hadn’t considered before. He understood the call to service and the risks involved for her. But had never thought beyond the island. Beyond this case.
Now he had to consider more. He didn’t have a choice anymore around this woman. Even if he said goodbye to her tomorrow or the day after, he would always wonder and worry. And if, heaven forbid, something happened to her, it would level him.
He wanted the old days back when he could sit against a wall like Crusty and thumb through paperwork until the world returned to order again. Instead he could only think of the woman in front of him and the fact that he’d almost lost her.
He forced his breathing to slow and reminded himself she was alive.
Alive and angry.
Anger radiated from her in waves as dark as the soot smudging her cheek. “They tried to crash my plane, Max. Someone screwed with my airplane.”
A rage as intense as hers ignited in him. This crew could have died.Darcycould have died.
He couldn’t change her occupation. Or what might happen tomorrow. But he could make sure the person responsible for that smudge on her face and shadows in her eyes paid.
* * *
Darcy hauled her weary body from the front seat of the rental car outside their base lodging. Bronco, Crusty and Tag piled out, as well. Nobody had the energy left for even a good-night, instead heading straight for their rooms.
Scratching a hand along the neck of her flight suit, she made her way down the open walkway and tried not to think about how much she could use a night on the roof deck with Max. Now that life had slowed, the flight rolled through her mind. She’d half expected the crew wouldn’t believe her calculations and would razz her about wanting to return to Guam because of Max. But they hadn’t. They’d accepted her call in the air without question.
Accepted her.
Was this something new? Or had she simply missed it before because she couldn’t look past the chip on her shoulder larger than her father’s stars? Definitely things to consider. Later. Once she shucked her flight suit, showered off the layers of grime, and slept for at least twelve hours.
Longer even.
Yet never long enough to forget how good it had felt relaxing back into the comfort of Max’s hands on her shoulders. He always knew when she needed him. She—a woman who prided herself on never needing anyone.
And there he was.
She shouldn’t be surprised. Max leaned against the wall in the shadows outside her room, thumbing through a copy of some magazine while he waited. She wasn’t fooled by his relaxed pose at all.
Muscles rippled with tension along his bared arms. His diver-down tattoo flexed and twitched as if protesting the restraint of Max holding back. Ready to pounce.
He flicked to the next page of the base paper without looking up. “Wanna head up to the deck or go inside?”
“You assume I need you now like after the snake attack and back in the hospital.”
He would be right, not that she intended to admit it.
Max closed the magazine, folded it in half and tucked it under his arm with precision. “Maybe I need to see you.”
Well, the guy sure knew how to sap the air out of a girl’s anger. Darcy slid the keycard through the lock. “Okay. You’ve been a good friend. You’ve seen me, checked up on me. I’m really fine. Or as fine as can be expected when I’ve almost died twice in a week.”
And she hadn’t even flown combat. Talk about a crash course in survival. She swung open her door and strode inside. His determined footsteps tracked her into the darkened room.
