Guardian

by Catherine Mann

  David sat on the edge of the sofa, a hand’s reach in front of her and too enticing in just cargo shorts and a T-shirt. Resting his elbows on his knees, he cradled his bowl in one hand. He jabbed at his chocolate mocha swirl. The picture Ricky had drawn lay on the coffee table where David had placed it when he’d come back from checking on his sister. He’d seemed pensive, but when she’d asked him if something was wrong, he just shook his head. He’d said he needed to think through some things.

  Guilt still stabbed her over the way she’d handled his impromptu proposal. They were both walking on eggshells now. She missed the way they’d been before—open, at ease.

  She popped the spoon free and concentrated on the maintenance records of the AC-130, instead of on the muscular calves a stroke away. Sophie shuffled her papers—printouts, test data, and government contracts—unveiling David’s bare feet visible through the glass tabletop.

  Mesmerized, she watched him scratch his toes over the top of one foot. Why did that seem so intimate?

  She shook off the sentimental notion and traced along the edge of Ricky’s drawing. “I wish we could call Brice and Haley Rose again, but they’ve got to be asleep by now.”

  “You spoke with them three times today.”

  “I’d call again. I won’t apologize for worrying.”

  David propped his feet on the edge of the table. “You’re a good mother.”

  “I had a great role model.” If only she could be half as patient as Nanny.

  “You’ve never mentioned your mother before.”

  Accustomed to thinking of Nanny as her mother figure, Sophie hadn’t considered his misunderstanding her remark. He’d divulged a part of himself and apparently wanted something in return.

  She decided it might be wise to share a piece of herself with him after all. Maybe then he could understand her better, not think as poorly of her when she couldn’t come through for him. The subject of her mother offered a safe confidence to exchange since it no longer hurt her. “I’ve never met my mother.”

  David paused, eyes narrowing for a flash before he scooped another dripping spoonful of ice cream.

  “My dad and his girlfriend—I’ve never thought of her as my mother—let things go a little too far in the backseat of a car. You can guess the rest. She hid the pregnancy from her folks until it was too late for an abortion. Lucky for me, huh?”

  David didn’t smile.

  “Her parents made arrangements with an adoption agency.” Sophie wrinkled her nose with a grin. “Then Nanny got wind of things.”

  That earned a chuckle from David.

  “I see you understand my Nanny quite well. While Dad finished school, we lived with Nanny and Gramps. Even after Dad finished the Academy, we never bothered moving out.”

  “Your dad was an Air Force Academy grad?”

  Sophie’s spoon stopped in midair. Slowly, she brought it to her mouth and ate. How did he manage to lead her into saying more than she wanted? Lowell had always pushed for answers. David seemed to have an artist’s touch for letting her talk herself into a corner.

  The ice cream melted on her tongue. “Just like you, David, he was a great aviator with a wonderful sense of honor and justice.” She set her bowl aside and stared at the strong man in front of her. For once her ice cream offered little comfort. “There were no shades of gray in his world. He put on his flight suit every day and fought the bad guys. I respected him, just like I respect you.”

  The next part never got easier. Forcing the words, she hoped to somehow prove to David, as well as to herself, that she wasn’t like Leslie. She had powerful reasons for pushing David away.

  “He died, David. He died in combat; his fighter jet held back enemy fire while they sent in a rescue team to get pinned-down soldiers.” Her mind filled with images of her father on that mission, so close to the same mission that had earned David his Distinguished Flying Cross. “Then he got shot down. He died in the crash. I know what my father did was honorable, but I was still so mad at him for leaving.”

  While the ache would never go away, surprisingly, the anger eased with being acknowledged. Sharing with David helped. “You and Haley Rose, well, it’s difficult to watch you two sometimes.”

  She tossed her napkin on top of the remaining ice cream, her appetite long gone. “My teenage years were rocky. It’s no big secret that I married Lowell as a father-figure substitute—without the risky uniform. Who would have thought he had dangerous hobbies like flying under bridges?”

  Dangerous and deadly.

  “Now do you understand?” She needed his understanding, his forgiveness. “Yes, I know you’re different from Lowell. But I’m not a risk taker, and you’re one great big sexy risk. I tell myself I don’t want Brice’s life disrupted. The truth is, I can’t go through watching another man die. I wish I could be strong enough to say none of it matters, but it does.”

  “You’re turning me down before I can even propose officially.”

  “David, damn it, why do you have to rush this and push so hard?”

  “For the very reason you just said. Life is fragile. There are no guarantees.” He tapped the picture Ricky had drawn. “This tells us that all too well. Things can change in a flash. We can’t afford to waste the present.”

  His words settled inside her so heavily, she wanted to scream in frustration. She knew that, damn it. She didn’t need reminding. She’d definitely had enough talking for one night.

  She swept aside her files and leaned across the coffee table. She grabbed David by the shirt and hauled him toward her for a full-on, no-holds-barred kiss.

  His arms banded around her without hesitation, his mouth opening. The sweet taste of ice cream lingering on his bold tongue. When he swept her into his arms, she didn’t bother protesting this time. She knew David wouldn’t drop her, and he’d been very clear on how much he enjoyed her curves.

  Living for the moment sounded like a damn fine idea right now.

  * * *

  David stood at the bedroom window, watching the sunrise and checking the lake for any suspicious boats. Sleep was hard to come by, even with a security system in place.

  He glanced back at Sophie, still sleeping, curled up on her side, hugging a pillow. She looked tired, too tired, with an exhaustion that went beyond dark smudges under the eyes.

  The furrows of worry across her brow hadn’t quite smoothed in sleep. He didn’t know how to take those burdens on for her. For a man of action, the lack of control frustrated him.

  What had her father been like? Had the happier childhood memories been tainted by his death? His thumb rubbed at the creases in her forehead as if he could remove years of sorrow.

  If something happened to him, would Haley Rose remember the good times? She already carried a sack full of anguish from her mother’s neglect. What kind of adult would she grow into if she lost him, too?

  While death on the job was an unspoken reality, he didn’t dwell on it overmuch, couldn’t afford to let it steal his concentration. Sophie’s father could have been any number of men he’d worked with, friends he’d lost. Littered among other nightmares, he could hear the strains of funeral taps, the keening of bagpipes, the choked cries of families.

  He could continue his determined path of persuasion and possibly earn Sophie’s love. But would she be happy? Would he?

  Yes, he wanted her, even loved her, but could he withstand another relationship where he wasn’t accepted unreservedly in return? Could she watch him strap on his shoulder harness every day? He didn’t know. For once, he settled for an area of gray, certain the answer would steal away the woman in his arms.

  He traced an almost translucent stretch mark gracing her hip. She wore her motherhood with pride. His fingers splayed over her flat stomach, and he couldn’t stop from thinking of his child growing there.

  Too easily, he could imagine spending the rest of his life with her, not just as the mother of his children but a woman he could laugh with, talk to, enjoy listening t
o the same piece of music with. Even with the areas of gray, they enjoyed untwisting the tangled legal system. So much right, so much more than sex. Although sex with Sophie had been beyond his expectations, and his expectations had been pretty damned incredible.

  Thoughts of her guiding hand stirred a response. A quick glance at the clock offered him the reassurance of another half hour until the alarm launched them into a day of uncertain outcome.

  Once he took Sophie to base, he needed to backtrack and talk to his sister again, get more details on what happened between her and Caleb. He needed to tell Sophie about his sister’s affair as soon as he had the facts straight.

  But before either of them started what promised to be a rough day…

  Curvaceous breasts begged his mouth to taste. The dip of her waist tempted him to caress. Sliding his arm under her shoulder, he palmed the back of her head to angle her mouth toward his for a wake-up call better than any alarm.

  Seeing the smudges under her eyes and furrows lining her brow stopped him.

  David nestled Sophie against his chest. He held her while she stole final minutes of sleep and another piece of his heart.

  * * *

  Nibbling kisses tugged at Sophie’s lower lip.

  “Time to wake up.”

  David’s husky drawl slid over her with as much arousing power as his touch. His roughened hands smoothed over her brow, gently stroked over her closed eyes.

  “Uhmmm.” She cuddled nearer, nudging her leg between his. Her throat raw from too little sleep, she opted for another moan of appreciation instead. She willed the world to stay outside for a few precious memories longer.

  “Come on, lazybones.” He nuzzled a kiss on top of her head.

  Her eyes fluttered open. A perfect view of his stubborn chin, peppered with morning stubble, greeted her. His determination had some definite benefits.

  She wiggled against him, pleased to discover he might be amenable to lingering in bed. “What’s your hurry?”

  “You’ve got court.” He untangled her arms from around his neck. “I’ve got some details to track down at work.”

  “I’ll put on my makeup in the car.” Even with muscles still deliciously achy from their night of lovemaking, her body reacted to his.

  “Court in an hour.”

  “David!” His words startled her fully awake. “Why did you let me sleep so late?” She kicked aside the covers and bolted for the bathroom before she had too much time to miss his strong arms.

  Their frenzy of readying for work with only seconds to spare added another level of intimacy, enticing her with how right being with David felt. No time for modesty, Sophie showered while he shaved. He dressed while she dried her hair, nothing but a towel wrapped around her body, a towel that slipped no less than three times with the assistance of a lusty flyboy.

  She raced through the living room, grabbing her files from the coffee table and the floor. She straightened the stack and tucked it in her briefcase, leaning at the last second to grab the photo Ricky had drawn for her and place it in as well. That burst of light, the flash, the last thing he remembered before his memory blanked and the shell hit his house…The picture would keep her focused today.

  Buttoning her uniform jacket, Sophie dashed across the driveway as fast as her pencil-straight skirt would allow. Her high heels caught in the hot, sticky asphalt, nearly pitching her forward. She stopped by his car, juggling her makeup bag under one arm and tossing her briefcase on the backseat.

  Sophie started to leap into the passenger side. David’s hands slid around her waist, his fingers spreading across her stomach and circling a gentle massage. Resting his cheek against the side of her head, he pressed his body flush against her back. His breath ruffled through her freshly washed hair.

  “Sophie, I heard what you said to me about your dad, your mother…your husband. I listened, and I understand. That doesn’t mean I can stop myself from wanting you or trying everything I know to make sure we risk more together.”

  He kissed her cheek, a tender stroke more moving than his most ardent plunder. She pivoted in his arms to face him, his clean-shaven, stubborn chin telling her all she needed to know. Just as he’d said, he would fight for her.

  The mere thought fluttered in her stomach.

  She brushed her knuckles over his chin. “Decisions are so easy for you, David. Clear-cut answers. How do you work through the gray areas so fast?”

  “We all have our own pace.” His tanned face creased into a smile. “I know from experience, when you commit to a decision, your determination is a force to be reckoned with.”

  His roguish grin chased away a few of the gray-tinged shadows. She turned away before she cried. Or caved.

  Gently, he lifted her inside. “We both need to get to work.”

  She watched him circle the hood and settle behind the steering wheel. His whipcord vitality stirred her. “It’s not that I don’t want you.”

  “I know that.” He pressed her against her seat, his mouth covering hers, hard and fast, stealing her breath, her will. With a wink, he pulled back and started the car. “You think too much.”

  Gunning the accelerator, David turned up the radio, ending conversation.

  Sophie struggled to put on her makeup as they wove through traffic. He’d left the car top on to keep her hair in place for work. Somehow even the minor darkening shade mingling with the melancholy tunes from the CD player cast a pall over her mood.

  She missed the sun on her face, the stinging breeze. David had taught her how to enjoy the moment. The wind rippling over her during their night rides had been invigorating, tying them together with an elemental bond.

  Parked outside the courthouse, Sophie grabbed her briefcase and jumped to the ground without waiting for David. She almost convinced herself she was running to court, not from him. When they moved proceedings from the courthouse to the accident site, she could dive into routine.

  She heard David’s longer strides closing the distance between them. He tugged her to a halt near the same spot where he’d tackled her when the gunshots sounded. Fear and longing had bound them then as well as now.

  Gentle, calloused hands caressed either side of her face. David lowered his lips to hers, skimming, then deepening into a lazy kiss of a couple who has eased the edge of passion but know it will soon build again. Her briefcase slipped from her grasp and thudded to the sidewalk.

  Sophie closed her fingers around his wrists, holding him in place while she surrendered to temptation. The decision seemed so much easier when he held her. The strength of his arms and his will infused her with the courage to push her boundaries a little further.

  Then he backed away, nodding to the guard standing watch at the door. She just stood, swaying like someone dazed by a first kiss. She couldn’t stop herself from watching him walk back to his Scout, taking in how damn hot he looked in his flight suit.

  Damn straight, he had a fine backside and broad shoulders, along with a sharp mind that challenged her. Was she being stupid to put the brakes on letting their relationship move faster?

  A hand tapped her on the shoulder. “Major Campbell, can I speak with you?”

  She turned fast. Caleb Tate stood behind her, stepping back.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. I hope you won’t be angry with Madison.”

  Angry with Madison? Why in the world would she be mad at Berg’s sister. Sophie struggled to sort through the captain’s words. “I don’t know what to think, other than to remind you we shouldn’t be speaking without one of your attorneys present.”

  “This is my decision and has nothing to do with them. I know Major Berg is pissed off and suspicious, but I didn’t start seeing Madison because of any ulterior motive. It just happened. And I never saw anything of yours and, God knows, Major Berg would never bring anything classified to the house.”

  Understanding swiped away the confusion. Understanding…and anger.

  Tate had been seeing Madison all this time and David—damn him
—hadn’t said a word.

  FIFTEEN

  Frustrated as hell, David downshifted through the late afternoon traffic, the snarl of cars making the drive twice as long. Which also doubled the time for Sophie to give him the silent treatment.

  Nearly an hour into the ride, he’d had it. Especially after the unproductive talk with his sister last night and an equally unproductive day at work arguing with the subcontractor Keith Nelson.

  He couldn’t do anything about his sister or the contractor. But here, in the car, he could dig to the root of the problem. “So, Soph, are you going to ignore me for the rest of the evening?”

  Sunglasses shading her eyes, she looked up from the open file in her lap she’d been pretending to read. “Pardon?”

  “What. Is. Wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She looked back at the file, her thumb fanning a corner of the papers.

  “Something’s obviously eating at you.” He accelerated past a tourist driving at least ten miles per hour below the limit. “I was married long enough to know that when a woman says it’s nothing, it’s definitely something.”

  She peered over the top of her sunglasses. “I do not appreciate being compared to your ex-wife.”

  “Okay,” he conceded, “that was a cheap shot, but at least you’re finally talking.”

  “Talking? You finally want to talk?” Her voice rose with each word. “Fine. How about this for a conversation starter? Why didn’t you tell me Madison and Tate are having an affair? That he’s had free run of her house with my notes for trial lying around for him to see?”

  Her anger sent him back in his seat. And he couldn’t even deny her accusation. He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d held back.

  “I only found out last night.” Which sounded lame even to his own ears now. He tapped the brake as traffic slowed to a crawl.

  “It would have been nice to have a heads-up before I walked into court today. That information could have influenced how I targeted my cross-examinations.”

  “And why did you send me out of the room when you questioned Juan?” he snapped back, not realizing until now how much that had grated at him.