Getting the security guards to open the building had been tough—for about ten seconds. Then he’d spelled out just how many heads were going to roll if he woke up the wing commander to let him inside to meet up with his girlfriend.
They’d sent him in with their blessing, waiting outside and obviously not overly swayed by his concerns.
The sound of Vaughn’s threats echoing softly down the hall had shaved ten years off his life. He’d considered going back out for the cops, but gauging by what Vaughn was saying, Sophie didn’t have seconds to spare, and he couldn’t risk his voice alerting the bastard. David had sent out SOS texts as fast as his fingers could fly over his phone.
At least she was still speaking, her beautiful voice a balm to the roaring rage threatening to consume him.
David swung into the room, offering himself up as a target instead. “Vaughn, it’s over.”
Vaughn shot to his feet and swung the gun right at his chest. “Don’t move.”
Sophie stared at him from across the room, terror lurking just below the surface. But she was alive and he would make damn sure she stayed that way. She inched away from Vaughn.
“Stop moving, Sophie,” the lawyer hissed from beside her, “or I’ll shoot your boyfriend.”
David switched gears. The warrior within him assumed control. He eased forward a step, forcing himself to focus on Vaughn rather than surrendering to the desperate hunger to look at Sophie. To reassure himself she was alive and safe. “Consider what you’re doing here. You are trapped with no way out.”
“I’ll shoot her.” Vaughn’s body shouted desperation. “Don’t think I won’t.” He swung the gun back to her, against her forehead.
Any hope of control evaporated. David swallowed bile. He’d thrown up after missions. Never during. He wouldn’t start now.
David scrambled for objectivity—but no luck finding it. His sight turned hazy red. Fear churned the barely banked rage back to life.
Sophie bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed. David saw it all, her breathy gasps, her fast blinks, all her signs of how hard she was pushing down the panic, and he couldn’t do a damned thing. Memories of those moments before the Cessna crash landing stabbed through him.
She’d asked him for time, just more time. A woman so afraid to trust again had offered him everything she had to give.
Vaughn’s hand skimmed the underside of her breast. Sophie gasped, then the counselor facade slid into place. David gritted his teeth, unable to decide if the man was a moron or a genius.
Every buried nightmare from battle roared to the surface. David knew all too clearly what a desperate man would do.
Sure, there was a chance help could arrive in time to storm the office and take out Vaughn. But a chance wasn’t good enough for him.
Finally, Sophie’s angry words after the airplane crash made sense to him. He couldn’t imagine the hell of having to tell Brice his mother had died, that he hadn’t protected her as he’d promised. It would be the worst thing David could imagine.
No. He changed his mind. Being left behind, living if Sophie died, was beyond imagining.
David stepped forward again, ready to offer himself in her place, not that he expected to be lucky enough for the bastard to take him up on the offer. Sophie’s eyes widened, with no attempt at all to hide her fear now. He could see in her face that she knew what he intended to do.
She shook her head slightly. She mouthed, No. Don’t. Please.
He shook his head as well, mouthing back, I’m sorry.
And then he launched forward, drawing Vaughn’s attention and gun directly on him as he’d hoped.
Sophie shoved hard at Vaughn. David could see the desperation in her eyes, the near superhuman strength of how she fought Vaughn. Her foot hooked behind his leg in a picture-perfect move to down him.
Picture perfect, but too late.
The gun fired.
A bullet tore through his arm. Professional instincts drove him forward even as Sophie’s screams filled the office.
Another bullet ripped into David’s shoulder, pain detonating through his chest. Love for Sophie powered his feet the final steps.
SIXTEEN
Screaming, Sophie launched herself onto Geoffrey. Fury propelled her with a frenzy that smothered the grief for now. She tackled him backward into the bookshelves, legal tomes pummeling both of them. Her every cell focused on pounding the man who’d just shot David.
Even thinking his name made her shriek in rage again as she fought back. Fought dirty. Using Krav Maga and street fighting. No rules.
Only a fight to the end, to win.
She pressed her forearm to his windpipe, her other hand slamming his wrist against the edge of a bookshelf. When he tried to swing at her, she bit his arm until she tasted blood. Vaughn’s roar filled the room and echoed the one inside her.
Hands grabbed her shoulders. She jerked reflexively, pressing harder on Geoffrey’s throat. She wouldn’t let him threaten David again. She refused to waste the window of opportunity David had gained with his blood. She wouldn’t give this traitor another chance at him.
“Ma’am,” an insistent voice—not Geoffrey’s—penetrated the battle haze, “please hold still, ma’am. We’ll take it from here.”
Disjointed thoughts sparked through her mind. The security police…Somehow they’d arrived. David must have called them. But didn’t wait. She rolled from Geoffrey and came face-to-face with David on the ground.
Blood soaked his arm. A fresh stain of red spurted from his chest over his name tag.
A woman screamed.
Sophie tried to shrug off the security police reaching for her. They should be dealing with the hysterical woman anyway. Somebody should shut her up.
David needed help. That’s all that mattered.
The carpet burned her knees as she scrambled to him. Only then did she realize her jaw was moving. The screams were bubbling from within her. She barely registered the pair of cops dragging Geoffrey Vaughn out to the hall.
Hysteria took control. With frenetic strength, she struggled to her feet, fighting the arms that held her back.
“No! No, no, no, no,” the moans ripped through her throat. “David!”
He didn’t move. His unconscious body was sprawled on her office floor. A security cop leaned over him, shouting into his handheld radio.
“Man down! Man down!” he shouted, rattling off the address and order for an ambulance.
Sophie pitched forward to her knees. Her hands slapped the industrial carpet. She wouldn’t lose another man. Sobs tearing through her, she grabbed David’s hand, searching for his pulse. The thready throb against her fingertips reassured and terrified her all at once.
“David…” Sophie sat on her feet and held tight to his hand. “Don’t you die on me, damn it. You’ve got to walk Haley Rose down the aisle one day. And you’ve got to wake up so I can tell you I love you and you can tell me back.”
Apparently the security police saw the power of a loved one’s presence—or they were too busy stemming the flow of blood—because they left her alone. She rested her ear against his chest, desperate for a sign of life. Her own gasping cries masked any whispers of sound. She held her breath, counting the beats of his heart.
One, then two, with the third she exhaled, listening to the steady thrum. A hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. Afraid to dare hope, Sophie closed her eyes. Tears seeped from her eyes into his already blood-soaked flight suit.
“Sophie.” His voice rumbled low and weak.
Unable to talk through the tears choking her, she kissed his chest, cheek, and forehead.
“I’m sorry, Sophie. I’m so sorry.” His dark lashes closed over blue eyes turned hazy gray with pain before he passed out again.
* * *
Madison had spent hours a day mediating but never had she prayed as hard as she did sitting beside her brother’s hospital bed through the night, waiting for him to wake up. Midmorni
ng sun streaked through the hospital window, casting a warm glow through the sterile room. An IV was strapped to his hand, oxygen tubes feeding extra air to his lungs. A monitor beep, beep, beeped reassurance of his steady heart.
Both doctors had told her David was lucky. Both bullets had passed clean through, so they’d only had to stitch him up, give him some blood, and pump him full of antibiotics. He should recover with rest and TLC.
Sophie had called her from the cop car, her voice overly calm as she’d explained what happened. She’d asked Madison to sit with David while Sophie gave her statement to the police on what happened.
Madison had forgotten to get shoes as she raced to the car in her yoga clothes.
Her brother could have died. Caleb had no part in the shooting and apparently wasn’t involved in Ricky Vasquez’s accident. But she didn’t feel one bit like celebrating while her brother lay pale in a hospital bed.
The sound of him shifting, of the sheets rustling, drew her attention.
“Sophie?” David’s voice came out hoarse, his eyes still unfocused and darting.
“Uhm, I’m your sister, you goof.” Her laugh got choked off with tears of gratitude. “But yes, Sophie is fine. She’s giving her statement now.”
His eyes closed again briefly, his mouth moving in a labored swallow.
She reached for a Styrofoam cup of ice chips on the rolling table and passed it to him. “I’m not sure if you’re allowed to drink or eat yet. But I can call the nurse.”
He took the cup from her. “This is good.” He shook a third of the contents into his mouth and sighed, swallowing easier this time. “Vaughn?”
“Under arrest.” She gripped her brother’s hand, careful of the IV. “I’m so sorry for not telling you about Caleb. My history with men is just so awful, I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge the possibility that…”
“That you might have feelings for the guy?”
She nodded tightly, her throat closing up until she reached for the cup of ice for herself.
“Madison, maybe you should tell him to his face.” David pointed over her shoulder.
Her blood chilled, and it had nothing to do with the ice chips melting on her tongue. She looked behind her and…Oh God. Caleb stood in the doorway with two other guys in flight suits. Her Caleb—blond, so young and handsome, and focused totally on her. The shock on his face would have been funny, except putting her heart on the line felt anything but humorous.
David squeezed her hand. “Go talk. I’ve got plenty of company.”
She kissed his cheek. “Love you, little brother.”
“Love you back.”
They may have had a domineering dad and a doormat mother who let him rule the roost, but she and David had always been able to count on each other. She should have remembered that. She wouldn’t let insecurity ever make her forget again.
Turning back to Caleb, she gestured to the door, her borrowed hospital slippers anything but elegant. But then the appreciation in his eyes soothed any concerns. He palmed her back and she tossed her loose dark hair over her shoulders.
One of the other fliers, a bulky bald guy she thought they’d called Vapor, applauded softly. “Nice, Tater, nice.”
The door swished closed behind them, and as much as she wanted to wrap herself around Caleb right now, she wanted a little privacy more.
Once they reached a small sitting area, she let her legs give way. He joined her on the industrial sofa.
“Madison, babe…”
She pressed her fingers to his mouth that had brought her so much pleasure. And yet seeing him smile pleased her even more.
After the way she’d insisted they keep their relationship quiet like it was something sordid, he deserved a little groveling on her part.
“I like you, Caleb, I mean I really like you. And in my book, that’s a lot more important than attraction.” Something she wished she’d figured out a long time ago instead of confusing lust for love. “Sex, well, that’s the easy part. But the feelings, the emotions,” she forced out the next word, the toughest of all, “the trust, those parts are more difficult for me.”
He stroked her hair back from her face with broad hands. “Why is that? You’re the most confident, mesmerizing woman I’ve ever met.”
“And I’m a total loser at choosing men.” She touched his chest carefully, tenderly, tracing that silly, endearing Tater call sign on his name tag. “You seemed too good to be true. So I waited for the other shoe to drop.”
“What do you mean you’re a loser at choosing guys?” His earnest green eyes stayed locked on her face.
Not her body. Had she missed other signs he was interested in more than sex? She hadn’t given him the chance. “We haven’t spent that much time talking, have we?”
A killer grin dug a dimple into his one cheek. “We tend to drop our clothes pretty fast, and then there’s not a lot of talking.”
“What if we had sex and talking?”
“What about a date, talking, then sex?” He rested his forehead against hers.
“I can do that,” she whispered against his mouth. “I want to do that.”
“Nice,” Caleb smiled against her lips, “very nice.”
* * *
Gaze focused straight ahead, Sophie watched the numbers flash by in the crowded elevator. Hospitals would never be her favorite place to visit, but she had more important things on her mind than fears that wanted to rob her of a future.
Finally, she was free, after hours spent repeating what had happened in her office. She’d given her statement to the security police, then the Air Force Office of Special Investigations, then the wing commander, who was justifiably freaked out over what one of his JAGs had been doing right under their noses.
She’d been brought updates on David’s status through the night, but not in anywhere near the detail she’d wanted. Only that the bullets had passed clean through. No internal organs were affected. He’d been stitched up and was resting comfortably. Thank God they’d let her change out of her bloody uniform into an air force T-shirt and gym shorts from her gym bag.
There hadn’t been time to talk with him before an ambulance had whisked him away, but at least she’d been able to phone Madison to be with him. A security cop had taken Geoffrey into custody. It would take more than one night to unravel all the damage he’d done.
Had she blown it with David when she’d fought with him earlier? How could she have judged him for being a risk taker when danger had lurked so near her? Life was full of risks. She might as well make her risk worthwhile, choosing David.
Finally, she’d learned to fight for what she wanted. She wanted David. With the combined strength of their determined wills, they could fight the odds of military relationships.
Sophie ignored the curious stare of the man beside her as he took in her bruised face and the bandage on her scratched-up arm. He cradled a plant in his hands, a balloon floating over it proclaiming, “It’s a Boy.” He raised an eyebrow.
Sophie shrugged. “Tough day at work.”
Laughter felt so good. Another gift from David.
The elevator doors slid open.
Walking down the corridor, she reminded herself these days of fear were coming to a close. She was getting out of the air force, and David would be safer once he took the Pentagon job.
Knocking with two knuckles, she pushed open his door, familiar voices swelling out. David’s friends from work—Smooth and Vapor. Her eyes skimmed them and went to David, pale but sitting up. His eyes held hers, and he extended a hand. She linked fingers without hesitation.
The duo exchanged looks and backed toward the door.
Smooth cleared his throat. “I think that’s our cue to leave.”
Vapor patted David’s uninjured shoulder. “Congratulations, Commander.”
The door swished closed after them.
Commander?
She pushed the question aside for the moment and just took in the sight of him, blessedly alive. S
he secured her hold on his hand. “I want to touch you, but I don’t know where you’re hurt.”
“Anywhere on the right side’s good.” He tugged her closer.
She hovered by his bedside, all the things she’d wanted to say jumbling up in her mind. Because she was tired. Not because she was scared at this first test to her resolution to be strong, to make this relationship work.
“Commander?” The word fell out of her mouth. “As in commander of the test squadron?”
David watched her warily. “Interim commander. The new guy was already not working out, and now with this gun turret catastrophe on his watch…Yeah, the rumor is I’m being offered the position. For now.”
Her blood rushed from her face straight to her toes. “Congratulations.”
And she meant it. Truly.
What she had with David was special, not just their time with the kids, not only making love but laughing over a bowl of ice cream. They’d enjoyed challenging each other, bringing out the best in each other.
One enduring fact shone through. She loved Major David Berg, crusader, father, man. And nothing scared her more than not having him by her side for the rest of her life.
* * *
David held on to Sophie’s hand and waited for her to say something, anything, to give him some sense of where they would go from here. His chest burned like hell, not to mention his arm flaming all the way down to his wrist, but he wasn’t taking anything for granted until he had this out with her, until he figured out how to make sure she stayed by his side.
Forever.
Then Sophie smiled, that amazing one that never ceased to knot his stomach. Only this time, her look held a new element. Steely determination had replaced the glimmer of vulnerability.
He hoped that smile meant they were on the same side, because she looked ready to down a mountain lion.
Hope eased the sting in his side. “When I was lying on the floor in your office, I think I remember you saying a lot of things to me.”
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