Uniformly Hot! Volume 1 from Harlequin: Letters from HomeBreaking the RulesComing Up for Air

by Rhonda Nelson

“Funny how a day can change everything,” she murmured. “Right now, Kabul Airbase seems like a lifetime ago.”

  “Not to me,” Chance said quietly. “When I was turning in last night, I could have sworn I smelled your scent on my skin.”

  For a long moment, their gazes locked and held, and Jenna forgot to breathe. A tray clattered nearby, breaking the spell and snapping her attention away from the mesmerizing expression in his light green eyes.

  “So when do you leave?” she asked, focusing on her yogurt and fruit. She didn’t dare look at him again, in case he saw how much his words affected her. She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she’d found herself replaying those moments in the Black Hawk over and over again in her mind more times than she cared to admit.

  “Teacup and I will fly a reconnaissance mission to the west in a few hours. We’ll bunk here tonight before we head back to Kabul in the morning.” He leaned across the table toward her, his lips compressed in a clear sign of frustration. “I was really hoping we could find some time alone, but that could be a little difficult with both of us staying in B-Huts.”

  B-Huts were open sleeping quarters, usually contained inside a large tent, with as many as thirty or more soldiers sleeping side by side on narrow cots. On a base as remote as Sangin, B-Huts were the norm. As commissioned officers, she and Chance should have been assigned to a CHU, but Sangin was too small for such luxuries.

  Jenna shrugged, forcing a nonchalance she was far from feeling. “It’s okay. Even if we had our own CHUs, it’s not like we could visit each other.”

  General Order No. 1 prohibited soldiers from entering the sleeping quarters of the opposite sex, and violations were dealt with severely. As much as Jenna might want Chance, she wouldn’t risk a reprimand, or worse, simply because she couldn’t keep a lid on her libido.

  Chance sighed and sat back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “Jesus, I’d give anything to be at Kandahar or Kabul right now.” When he lowered his hand, his expression was an alluring combination of awareness and frustration. Knowing that he wanted her was almost enough to make up for the fact that they couldn’t be together.

  “Maybe they’re showing a movie over at the rec center tonight,” she suggested. “We could check that out.”

  “What…like a date?”

  Jenna heard the gentle teasing in his voice and recalled their conversation from the previous day regarding the status of their relationship. She’d been clear that she didn’t want anyone in her unit knowing about them. But with McLaughlin’s crew stranded at Sangin, there was a distinct likelihood they would see her with Chance and draw their own conclusions.

  Suddenly, she didn’t care. If there was one thing she’d realized in the past twenty-four hours, it was that life was short and you had to grab what you wanted with both hands. And right now she wanted Chance Rawlins. She’d been an army pilot for eight years; people would start to talk if she didn’t show interest in someone as overtly sexy as Chance Rawlins.

  She looked at him from beneath her lashes and allowed a small smile to curve her lips. “Yeah, just like a date.”

  Chance laced his hands across his flat stomach and regarded her lazily. “Only, there’s no chance of my stealing a kiss or copping a feel.”

  Jenna laughed. “Sorry, none. Unless of course…”

  He arched an eyebrow and waited.

  “Unless you choose to walk me back to my sleeping quarters. We could take the long way around. Maybe go over to the flight line and check on my aircraft.”

  Chance’s expression grew heated. “There’s no sandstorm. We could be seen.”

  “I’ll risk it.” Just thinking about being with him again caused butterflies of excitement to flutter in her stomach. She didn’t want to wait. She felt as if she’d been stretched taut, and if she didn’t get some relief, she would snap. “Do you want to get out of here?”

  “Sweetheart,” he drawled, devouring her with his eyes, “if I stand up now, every soldier in this canteen is going to know I’m having indecent thoughts about you.”

  “Oh.” Only then did she realize he’d placed his hat across his lap to hide his growing arousal. “Oh.”

  “Let’s talk about something else,” he suggested. “How did you come to have an all-female crew?”

  Jenna shook her head. “I don’t know. It just sort of worked out that way. I met Laura—Warrant Officer Costanza—at flight school and then we happened to get assigned to the same unit. We work really well together. If she wasn’t my copilot, I’d want her as my wingman. I guess I’ve never really thought of us as an all-female crew. We’re professionals who’re just doing our jobs.”

  “So you’d have no problem flying with a male copilot? Or copiloting for a male pilot?”

  “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ve done both. Would you object to flying with a female copilot? Or copiloting for a female pilot?”

  “I’ve never really thought about it,” he admitted. “But as long as she knew her stuff and could get the job done, then no, I’d have no objections.”

  “You don’t think there’d be any underlying resentment, or a need to prove yourself?”

  Chance leaned forward and looked directly into her eyes. “No. I. Don’t.”

  Jenna was unconvinced. “You can say that now because you’ve never been in that situation.”

  Chance looked affronted. “How do you know?”

  “Well, have you?” Jenna would stake her life on the fact that Chance had never had to fly with a female copilot, which was why he was able to dismiss her fears about getting involved with another pilot as rubbish.

  “Yes, actually,” he replied smoothly. “I flew four missions with a female gunner during my last deployment, when my own copilot had to undergo an emergency appendectomy.”

  Jenna didn’t know why that information should surprise her so much, but it did. At the same time, she was aware of a niggling sense of jealousy at the thought of another woman riding shotgun with Chance, working in tandem with him and anticipating his needs and commands.

  “That surprises you,” he said flatly, reading her expression.

  “Frankly, yes.”

  “Why? Because you were more comfortable thinking of me as a—how did you so eloquently put it? A shallow, narcissistic, egotistical, arrogant pilot, with all the stereotypical chauvinistic attitudes?”

  Jenna frowned, because whether she wanted to admit it or not, his words had a ring of truth. She had wanted to think of him that way, so that when their relationship came to its inevitable end, she could put the blame squarely on him.

  “Look,” she said carefully. “I may have been wrong about you, okay?”

  Chance’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That sounds suspiciously like an apology.”

  Jenna gave him a rueful look, but her heart was pounding hard in her chest. She was going to step out on a limb and hope it didn’t snap beneath her. If someone had told her just two months ago that she would be willing to get emotionally involved with another pilot, she would never have believed it. She could scarcely believe it now, and even though her head was telling her that she was about to make a colossal mistake, everything else—body, heart and soul—were telling her that this was what she wanted.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m willing to give this—this relationship a try.”

  She waited breathlessly for his response. She’d thought he would be happy, but he merely gave her a skeptical look. “What about your conditions? You know, keeping it casual?”

  Jenna looked at him sharply. “Is that what you want?”

  He raised his hands and sat back in his chair. “Don’t turn this around on me, sweetheart. I told you how I feel, but I’m willing to play this however you want. If you don’t want me to talk to you in front of your unit
, then I need to know that.”

  Jenna drew in a deep breath. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that we don’t have to keep it under wraps. We may be restricted from public displays of affection, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be seen together. Even by the guys in my unit.”

  Chance’s mouth lifted in a lopsided grin. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “You don’t trust me? How are we going to make any kind of relationship work if you don’t trust me?”

  Her words had been partly teasing, but his were serious as he considered her. After a long moment, he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. “I’m going to tell you the same thing a pilot told me the first time I flew as a copilot, and it’s the same thing I’ve told each copilot who’s climbed into the cockpit with me—first and foremost, we’re equals. Every time we undertake a mission together, risks are identified and mitigated when possible. Each of us is charged with constantly monitoring the mission and re-evaluating the risks, and each of us has a voice in the mission and is charged with speaking up if concerns arise.”

  Jenna knew he wasn’t just talking about flying. “Okay. I’m in total agreement with you.”

  Chance braced his hands on the table and leaned forward to look at her, his face scant inches from her own. “But none of that undermines the authority of whoever is in control, and that person will always have the final say.”

  Jenna’s heart thumped hard in her chest, but she returned his gaze steadily. “And which one of us is in control?”

  She was unprepared when he reached out and stroked a thumb across her mouth. His expression was one of amused resignation. “Well, it sure as hell isn’t me, sweetheart.”

  12

  “MAN, WHO PICKED THIS movie? This is seriously lame.”

  Jenna leaned forward on the sofa and gave the speaker a level look. “I did. This is only one of the best movies ever made.”

  Sergeant Byron Jones made a scoffing noise. He was Captain McLaughlin’s door gunner and he and Jenna had known each other for several years.

  “Aw, c’mon, Captain L., get real. What’s so great about an old dude reading a book to some old lady in a nursing home?”

  “It’s a romance, Jones,” interjected another crew member, Corporal Matt Logan. “You’re gonna love it. This movie is right up your alley—all mushy and sentimental.”

  Byron gave the other man a look of disgust. “Man, I’m gonna hit you with something really hard. What the hell are you doin’, bro?”

  “Busting your balls.” Corporal Logan grinned unrepentantly.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Jones,” said Laura from where she sat cross-legged on the floor with her back against the wall, “I promise not to notice if you cry.”

  Beside her on the sofa, Chance shifted restlessly and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He had returned from his afternoon mission just an hour earlier and had just completed his flight briefing with the ops commander. Jenna hadn’t had a chance to ask him how the mission had gone, but his expression seemed a little on the grim side. They had agreed to meet at the recreation center at seven o’clock to watch a movie, but Jenna hadn’t been prepared to find Captain McLaughlin’s entire crew there, as well as her own. She’d hoped that she and Chance might have the place to themselves, but no such luck.

  Out of deference to her rank and, she suspected, her gender, she had been invited to choose the movie. The selection of DVDs ran mostly to action and suspense flicks, but Jenna had taken a perverse pleasure in choosing a film that critics called an epic love story.

  The recreation center was no more than a rough, plywood structure with a couple of worn sofas and chairs inside, but it also boasted a large, flat-screen television and a decent surround-sound system. On the far side of the room were two additional televisions and a couple of video-game consoles, where a group of young soldiers enthusiastically played a warfare game, as if they didn’t get enough of it in real life.

  Jenna sat next to Chance on the sofa, while the other crew members sprawled on the scattered chairs or sat on the floor. The air-conditioning whirred softly, and Jenna welcomed the cool air against her skin. Like most of the other soldiers, she wore a T-shirt and her camo pants, but had left her jacket and body armor in the B-Hut that she would share with twenty other women. The soldiers had each brought their weapon with them, and they lay on the floor by the entrance. Someone had made popcorn, and as the bowl was passed around, Jenna felt like she might actually be able to relax and enjoy the downtime.

  Chance stretched an arm along the sofa behind her head, and she froze, acutely aware of him. Her thigh pressed against his, and her shoulder fit neatly into the curve of his arm. She realized she could smell him, a clean scent of soap and spicy deodorant. His chest rose and fell evenly with his breathing, and she wondered if he was as aware of her as she was of him. But when Laura unfolded herself from the floor and stood up to flick the lights off, Jenna’s awareness ratcheted up to a whole new level.

  “Sorry,” said Laura, sounding anything but apologetic. “That overhead light hurts my eyes and causes a glare on the screen.”

  There were murmured assents, and when Laura returned to her seat, Chance bent his head to whisper softly in her ear. “Well this is cozy. Maybe I can cop a feel after all.”

  Jenna didn’t dare look at him. “I wouldn’t advise it,” she whispered back, knowing he wouldn’t make good on his threat, at least not here. Instead, he traced his thumb lazily over the back of her shoulder, where none of the others could see. That small contact made her feel connected to him in a way that even having sex with him hadn’t.

  When an explicit love scene played out in the movie, several of the soldiers squirmed uncomfortably or made crude jokes in an attempt to alleviate the tension that filled the small room. Jenna watched, imagining that the characters making love on the floor were her and Chance. As if he could read her thoughts, he stroked her bare arm with his fingertips, the featherlight caress causing goose bumps of sensation to rise on her skin.

  “That’s what I want to do to you,” he breathed.

  Jenna felt something loosen in her chest, but when she looked at him, his attention was still fixed on the television screen, and the shifting light cast shadows over his taut features. Without turning his head, he looked at her, and the heat in his eyes caused an internal meltdown as her body responded to the implicit promise in his eyes.

  The intimacy of the moment was shattered by a strident alarm. The warning sirens that blared through the compound had every person in the rec center, including Jenna and Chance, leaping to their feet and scrambling for their weapons, the movie forgotten. Each one of them knew what the sirens meant: an incoming rocket or mortar attack.

  “Bunkers!” yelled Sergeant Jones, springing forward to throw the door open and hustle everyone through.

  Jenna paused long enough to grab her pistol and holster off the floor before she dashed outside. Theoretically, the sirens were supposed to provide a ten- to twenty-second advance warning, but the first explosion came just five seconds after the first alarm sounded. Too late, she realized she had neither helmet nor body armor. Until she reached the safety of the bunker, she was completely vulnerable.

  Outside, darkness had fallen. As she sprinted out the door, Jenna looked up into the sky and came to an abrupt halt, heedless of the person who plowed into her from behind. She stared in amazement at the unbelievable sight of a rocket whizzing directly overhead, followed an instant later by an explosion that made the ground tremble beneath her feet. Another rocket whistled above her and she could have sworn it was no more than thirty feet from the ground, but this time it was intercepted by an anti-missile system and exploded in midair.

  “Larson,” growled a voice behind her, “move your ass!”

  Before she could respond, Chance wr
apped a hand around her arm, almost dragging her alongside as they ran toward the nearest bunker. Overhead, red tracers crisscrossed the night sky, and another explosion rocked the compound. It was like a scene from Star Wars, as laser cannons blasted away in retaliation and the sound of machine-gun fire filled the air.

  Then they were in the bunker, stumbling their way down the incline and into the cool darkness of the fortified dugout. The sounds of the rockets were muffled here, but the explosions illuminated the interior in brief, ghostly flashes of light. More than two dozen other soldiers were there ahead of them, standing silently as they waited for the attack to end.

  Chance pulled Jenna into a corner and, heedless of anyone who might be watching, caught her face in his hands, searching her eyes in the gloom.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes.” Now that they were safely in the bunker, she realized that she was shaking. The attack was the closest she’d come to real combat, and as much as the rockets had mesmerized her, they had also scared her.

  “Where the hell is your helmet and vest?” Chance asked, his voice tight.

  “Where are yours?” she countered breathlessly, taking in his T-shirt and camo pants.

  “Christ.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know better. We both know better.”

  Neither of them had brought any protective gear with them to the rec center, and Jenna realized the oversight could have cost them their lives. Even in the indistinct light, she could see how much the personal security lapse bothered him.

  “Hey,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. “We’re okay. We made it to the bunker. Everything is okay.” At that moment, she became aware that the sirens had stopped, and the others were making their way cautiously outside. The sound of rockets had ceased. “Listen! It’s over.”

  But Chance wasn’t listening. He thrust Jenna up against the cold concrete blocks of the bunker wall, searching her eyes in the darkness. There was an edge to him that Jenna hadn’t seen before, a desperation of sorts.