Catherine Mann - Strategic Engagement

The doctor. Kathleen. The woman who would drop everything just for Danny. Of course if he had someone else in his life, that would free her.

Yeah right, like she’d ever been free of this guy’s ghost. Surely it had more to do with him being her first lover that earned him a special spot in her memories.

Daniel stepped into sight from the stairwell leading up to the cockpit. She eyed the stretch of his shoulders as she made her way toward the exit hatch. What about her spot in his memories? How much importance did she want there?

Daniel pivoted to her. “Let me take the little slugger.”

Austin clung tighter in his sleep, his grip firm around her neck and growing dangerously tight around her heart. “I can carry him.”

“The steps are steep. A tumble will land you both hard.” He leaned to whisper against her ear, his warm breath scented with chocolate and the promise of passion. “Temporary truce. Everything doesn’t have to be a battle between us.”

Score one for Daniel. She passed over the sleeping child and forced herself not to smooth the boy’s tousled curls.

Or the stray lock brushing Daniel’s brow.

Steadying her hand on the metal rail, she descended the steps and inhaled the familiar Southern aromas in front of her mingling with Daniel’s bay rum behind her. The early afternoon sun crested over the band of pine trees and live oaks bordering the stretch of cement. Nostalgia nicked her, the low country of South Carolina so like her Savannah home. A hungry longing filled her to inhale greedy gulps of both the place and the man.

Rubistan’s isolation from temptation had merit.

Mary Elise steeled herself to move forward. The hum of engines from a distant bus, truck and ambulance mingled with the symphony of crickets and June bugs. Autumn in South Carolina resembled the summer heat in many Northern climes. Her silk shirt clung to her back by the time she cleared the last step.

A byproduct of the temperature, damn it, not the lure of home. She had to stop the past from dinging her control.

Guiding a groggy Trey to the side, she waited for Daniel and the others to clear the craft. She flipped a mental switch within herself, shifting from a too-vulnerable woman to analytical reporter mode. She would observe the world around her without getting involved.

One of the copilots, the young guy with a devilish twinkle in his eyes, strutted across the cement, guitar case slung over his back. “Need any help there, sir? I’ve got extra seats in my car.”

He tossed a wink her way, his flirting complimentary without a threatening edge. She allowed herself a smile. Detached, but participating, interacting in normal human exchanges. Something she hadn’t done in so long.

Daniel stepped closer. “No, thanks, Bo. My truck has an extended cab. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay, then. Take it easy, sir.” Bo backed away, morning sun glinting off the copilot’s jet-black hair and perfect features, increasing his fallen-angel air.

Actually more like an impish fallen cherub since the guy was probably all of twenty-five, making Daniel’s hundred-percent adult male hard lines vibrate tension through the air.

Jaw set, Danny cupped her elbow as he guided her toward the waiting crew bus. “Did you want to ride with him?”

Jealousy laced his words. Surprising her. Thrilling her.

“Of course I didn’t.” The answer fell free before she could think to say something that would put more distance between them. Instead she just stared back as the thrill tripped through her, all the while blaming the yearning on a weakness born of exhaustion.

Running footsteps jarred her back to the present. The copilot, Darcy Renshaw, sprinted by toward the waiting military truck. The passenger door opened and a man stepped out, a civilian if his unconventional clothes and spiked hair were anything to go by. His seafoam-colored windbreaker clashed with flowered, knee-length swim trunks. Darcy dropped her flight bag and flung her arms around his neck seconds before he kissed her. Really kissed her, like a man who couldn’t get enough of that one woman.

Screw distance. Analytical observations went up in flames as embers of long-dead dreams sparked. What would it be like to inspire that kind of passion? She and Daniel had been on fire for each other during those uninhibited weeks of lovemaking. But sometimes she wondered if years apart might have painted her memories a deeper shade of red as her discontent in her marriage grew.

Daniel cleared his throat.

Mary Elise glanced up. “They’re married?”

“Nah, still in the newly engaged stage.”

A rush of heat swelled through her. Yeah, she and Daniel had fallen well into that can’t-get-enough engaged state. “Oh. Uh, they seem well suited.”

He patted Austin’s head to soothe the yawning child back to sleep and charged forward, the path past the necking couple the only route toward the waiting ambulance. “They met last summer on a joint mission to Guam.”

“He’s Air Force?” She eyed the man’s nonregulation hair with curiosity, hair currently getting a finger comb from an amorous lady copilot who wasn’t overly concerned about public displays of affection.

“Was CIA. Now he’s a civilian employee with the OSI—Office of Special Investigations. Kind of like the Air Force’s own CIA.” Daniel cleared his throat and urged her forward, not even breaking stride as they drew alongside the embracing couple. “Thanks for your help, Spike. I owe ya one.”

Without slowing the kiss, the man pulled his hand off Darcy Renshaw’s waist and held his palm up for a high-five.

As they strode past, realization crept over Mary Elise. Wren’s spiky-haired boyfriend who looked more like a beach bum than an OSI Special Agent had played a role in the boys’ escape as well.

Had known exactly how much danger his fiancée flew into.

Mary Elise couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder. The air crackled. Desire derived from a day filled with life and death stakes licked the air, scorching her even from a distance.

She turned her back on the image and thoughts of partnerships it inspired. “Spike? A nickname because of his hair, I assume.”

“Yeah. Normally OSI guys don’t get their own call sign, but we made Spike an honorary member of the squadron once he and Renshaw hooked up.”

The air whirled with the dynamics of so many relationships, platonic as well as passionate. Her mind and body went into sensory overload after years of deprivation.

Kent had severed ties from people except in the working environment, later taking even that from her, insisting work-related stress caused the miscarriages. The past months in Rubistan she’d soaked up the teaching time with children like a healing balm after enforced distance from little ones. Even so, those relationships were superficial. She hadn’t been a real part of any community for years.

And then it hit her what bothered her so much about this homecoming, why she wanted distance as a buffer from pain.

Daniel had moved on, made a life for himself with new friends, new direction, ever changing and growing. But she’d allowed herself to stagnate, frozen in time. How telling that when she’d needed help running from Kent’s threat, she’d turned to someone from her past. Daniel’s father. Sure, she’d escaped the immediate danger, but she still hadn’t been able to lower the walls that sealed her from experiencing emotions. She’d focused on survival for so long, she wasn’t sure she really knew how to live anymore.

Entering a world full of feelings, like love—anything—again was a scary-as-hell proposition. And not one she intended to attempt with Daniel anywhere near her.

The man of the hour beside her paused, a new tension radiating from him in waves. She didn’t have to look to know. An instinctive understanding of him that had gone dormant over the years roared to life.