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So he needed to dig deeper into class lectures. “Dolphins breathe with voluntary muscles. Not like us where it’s involuntary. One side of a dolphin’s brain always stays awake to regulate breathing.”
“Kind of like Crusty, huh? Half there sometimes.”
He forced himself to grin back at her mistaken perception about the OSI contact currently sitting in the cockpit. Max had never worried overmuch about the lies inherent in his job before. A means to a better end. Why did it bother him now?
Shake it off and get to work. “Did you need something?”
“Not really.” Her whiskey-rich voice mingled with the roar of engines. “Just taking a break to stretch my legs.”
Legs.
Max kept his famished eyes off those mile-long legs and searched for something safe to study, like her flight suit patches. She shifted from boot to boot, relaying restless nerves at odds with all that gutsy confidence.
A restlessness that inched her so close he could read the stitched lettering on her patches. Her arm declared her squadron’s motto ofAnything. Anywhere. Anytime.
With her soft-scented body a reach away, the words curled through his brain with shades of meaning he didn’t want or need now. “Well then, I’ll get back to—”
“Are they both girls?” Darcy pointed to the other transport crate. “Or is that one a boy?”
The woman had a knack with questions, and for a man used to being the one who excavated answers, the experience set him on edge. “Females, both of them.”
“What’re their names?”
“Lucy and Ethel.”
“Lucy and Ethel? And?” Darcy waved a hand for him to continue. “Spill it. There’s got to be a story there.”
So many people wanted to talk about themselves, he never had trouble keeping his own life closed away by asking the questions. Few pushed past his lifelong reserve. Certainly no one since Eva.
Max forced his breathing to stay even. “I liked old sitcoms as a kid.Lostin Space. Gilligan’s Island. I Love Lucy– which is how they came to have their names Lucy and Lucy’s best friend Ethel.” Enough about him. Time to turn itaround. “What was your favorite show as a kid?”
“Hogan’s Heroes,of course. While Dad was stationed overseas, we could only get old sitcoms on the base network.” Her eyes clouded and she studied her boots until Lucy shooshed again. Darcy’s head popped up, her ready smile crinkling her nose again. “But we’re not talking about me. Come on. Don’t stop now. Why did you settle on Lucy and Ethel rather than, oh, maybe Ginger and Mary Ann or Judy and Penny Robinson?”
So she was a vintage show aficionado as well. Max considered shutting her down with a curt response but couldn’t bring himself to douse the animated twinkle in her eyes. What would it hurt to answer a question that had no bearing on his mission? She would be returning to her home base in days, anyway.
“Lucy has this loud cry that made me think of those Lucy tears. You know, that wide-open-mouth cry.” He palmed the fiberglass side. “She’s temperamental, but she’s affectionate. Ethel is the practical one.”
He glanced down the belly of the plane where his assistant sprayed the other dolphin. Perry enjoyed disguises, the bow tie being his latest inspiration. Not a field agent, just CIA support personnel adding technical expertise, Perry helped with medical maintenance and setting up the physical environment for the dolphins. An important job, especially with the dolphins’ impending release after they completed the underwater search. Max pinched the bridge of his nose absently.
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re frowning.”
“I’m concentrating.” Or trying to, anyway.
“It’s not that kind of frown.”
“Frowns come in types?”
“Sure they do. You study nuances of communication, don’t you?” Her body language left no room for misunderstanding as she twirled a lock of her hair. “Well, there are definite nuances to frowns. There’s the mad frown. Furrows in the brow dropping low over the eyes. Mouth drawn tight.”
Darcy demonstrated with an enticing dichotomy of naiveté meets femme fatale. She circled her lips with her finger until Max ached to replace that finger with his own mouth.
Lowering her hand, Darcy pointed across the plane. “Tag over there’s giving your assistant one of those frowns right now for almost bumping the load-ramp controls.”
Uninterested in looking at Perry or Tag, Max folded his arms over his chest and let her talk. Not that he seemed to have much of a chance of stopping her, anyway. “Okay, I’ll buy into that one. What about other frowns?”
“Then there’s the mega-worried frown. Long furrows on the brow. Jaw thrust forward just a bit.” She scrunched her face into a scowl, this time forgoing the attention to her lips, thank heaven. “The frown my dad gave me this one particular time right before I headed out the door.”
“Been there. Seen that one on my old man’s face enough times during my teenage years.”
