Michelle let go of her hair. It fell past her shoulders to her waist in a cascade of damp waves. Some might think her vain for not cutting it. Short would be so much easier. It would dry faster, too. But short hair required maintenance. And styling products. Not to mention frequent trips to the ship’s barber. In the long run, longer hair was the hassle-free choice.
Too much trouble was also the excuse she gave herself for not wearing makeup or perfume, or an assortment of other feminine accoutrements meant to attract men. But then, it wasn’t the spotlight she wanted. It was respect.
She wanted the other pilots, especially Zach, to take her seriously. And how was anyone supposed to do that if she spent all her time primping in front of the mirror, instead of poring over flight manuals?
Michelle ran a brush through her wet tangle of hair and secured it in a damp but functional bun, using only a rubber band—stray bobby pins tended to play havoc with a plane’s control systems. Now she felt more like the pragmatic woman she was.
Moving away from the mirror, she dismissed her image.
Ironic, really, that a woman confident enough to fly multimillion-dollar jets for the military could be so insecure about her appearance.
Of all her unremarkable features, her eyes were probably the only thing she liked about her looks. They were intelligent and hazel-brown. Zach had once remarked they sparkled the exact color of root beer. They’d been kids then and she’d been thirsty for his affection, so she’d foolishly believed him.
Michelle shook her head at the memory, seventeen and wearing her heart on her sleeve. What a mistake.
But she’d learned a lot since that summer.
Such as the only way to keep Zach Prince close was to keep him at arm’s length.
THROUGHOUT THE PREFLIGHT briefing in the ready room, Michelle listened intently to Captain Greene, commanding officer of the USS Enterprise, as he outlined the upcoming mission for their squadron. She took diligent notes, but occasionally her gaze wandered across the aisle to Zach.
He sat slouched in the comfortable theater-style leather seat, long legs sprawled out in front of him. His slightly lowered eyelids with their thick black lashes gave the impression of boredom. But she knew better. Beneath the facade he remained alert and ready for anything.
As per his usual preflight ritual, he popped a piece of Bazooka in his mouth, the only brand of gum he chewed. Fliers were a superstitious lot and Zach was no exception. He showed the comic strip to his RIO, Ensign Steve Marietta, who went by the call sign Magician. They shared a chuckle. And Michelle felt a twinge of something in the pit of her stomach.
Jealousy?
She loved to fly with Zach.
They’d been through the academy together. Flight school. Then Fighter Weapons School. And currently assigned to squadron VF-114 out of Miramar, California, as part of the Air Wing assigned to the Enterprise.
But her ambition wouldn’t allow her to take a back seat to anyone. So it had been a long time since they’d piloted a plane together.
Zach caught her looking at him and winked.
She rolled her eyes with practiced indifference. But the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. He took a piece of bubble gum from his upper left pocket and tossed it to her. Disguising the smile, she offered a wry grin in return. He knew she didn’t chew the stuff.
She started to stow it in a pocket.
“Open it,” he mouthed.
So that was it—he wanted her to read the joke. Occasionally he tampered with the cartoons to make them X-rated, although he usually didn’t share those with her. Probably because he understood she wouldn’t appreciate that brand of humor.
Michelle opened it only to find the cartoon unaltered. Nothing the least bit risqué. She looked at him with a puzzled frown.
His eyebrows drew together as he trained those perfect baby blues on the strip of paper from across the aisle. He turned to Steve and snatched a still-wrapped piece of Bazooka out of the ensign’s hand, then tossed the confiscated gum to her.
Michelle raised a questioning eyebrow at his odd behavior.
“Open it,” Zach mouthed again.
“Passing notes in class, Prince?” Captain Greene asked.
Heat rushed to Michelle’s cheeks. All eyes turned toward her. Skeeter offered a sympathetic smile, but the rest of the room rumbled with male laughter.
She hated the feeling of being under a microscope. As an admiral’s daughter she’d lived her whole Navy career that way. As a woman in the macho world of naval aviation she’d had more than her fair share of scrutiny already.
“Perhaps you two would care to share with the rest of us.”
“Sure, why not?” Zach offered with his usual nonchalance.
Michelle shook her head at the senior officer’s suggestion and tucked the gum into the cargo pocket of her pants leg.
“Good, because this isn’t high-school chemistry, and you two aren’t teenagers. So keep the raging hormones in check.”
As soon as the captain turned his back, Zach tried to get her to go for the gum. She put a hand up to block her peripheral vision and ignored him for the rest of the briefing.
“Any questions?” Captain Greene concluded, clearly anticipating none.
“Yo.” Steve raised his hand. “I just thought since we were back in high school…” He got his requisite laugh, then launched into the really stupid stuff everyone expected of him. “I don’t think I’m hearing straight. You did say you were giving us two days R&R in Turkey? Would that be a full forty-eight hours, Captain? And where exactly is the nearest strip joint, anyway?”
The room let out a collective groan and bombarded Steve with paper airplanes while the ensign mumbled something about belly dancers and seven veils.
“Magician, you dumbass,” Greene admonished. “Figure it out for yourself. If there are no further questions, everyone is dismissed.”
“No sweat, Magic Man,” Zach said, pushing to his feet. “We’ll just fly around until we find one.”
They were kidding, of course. At least, she hoped they were. There really was no telling with those two. It irritated her that Zach felt the need to play the dunce when he was probably one of the smartest men she knew. But all too often he hid his intelligence and slid by on his charm. He certainly never had to try as hard as she did.
Flying didn’t come easy for her; nothing came easy to a perfectionist. Michelle stood and Zach held up foot traffic to let her and Skeeter pass in front of him.
“I’ll spring for the hotel room. First-class all the way,” he offered.
“Any other guy would have asked me to dinner first.” Michelle tossed the comment over her shoulder as she continued up the aisle.
“But he’d have been thinking about getting you back to his room.”
“He’s right, you know,” Steve piped in. “All I ever think about is getting laid.”
Steve grunted and Michelle realized Zach must have given his RIO a well-deserved elbow to the gut. They were boys, both of them, Peter Pans who would never grow up.
And they deserved each other.
What had she been thinking? She didn’t miss flying with Zach at all.
“If you feel like dinner, we could order up room service,” he persisted. “But I was thinking more like breakfast.”
“Come on, Skeeter. Let’s get out of here,” Michelle urged her roommate forward.
“Just do me a favor,” Zach whispered. “Read the comic strip—”
“Prince, Dann, a moment of your time.” Captain Greene stopped them short.
“Yes, sir.” Michelle popped to attention next to Zach while everyone else filed out around them. Within moments there was just the three of them, leaving the ready room unusually quiet.
Normally, pilots were coming and going. Preflight, postflight, the one thing flyboys loved most next to flying was talking about it. It wasn’t unusual for them to evaluate each other or own up to mistakes. Especially since a single error could mean the difference between lif
e and death.
She had a niggling suspicion about what was coming.
“At ease,” the captain ordered.
Michelle opened her stance, even though she felt far from relaxed. She focused on the captain’s bald spot and tried not to think about this little incident getting back to her father. Just like everything else she did.
After the lecture from the captain, she could look forward to one from the admiral.
“Let me start by saying I don’t create policy, I just enforce it. I know you kids grew up together and have come through the ranks together, but that doesn’t excuse your conduct…”
Michelle could tell by the lack of bluster in Captain Greene’s normally booming discourse that he really meant it this time. She found herself tuning out the rest. She knew it by rote. How many times since they were kids had Zach gotten her into trouble by refusing to play by the rules? Even though he somehow always managed to come out smelling like a rose, she took on the distinct odor of Pepe LePew.
She shifted her focus to the “greenie board” over the captain’s shoulder. Similar charts hung on the bulkhead of every squadron ready room aboard the ship.
Naval aviation was a competitive field fueled by testosterone. Not only did pilots critique themselves and each other, they were formally graded by a landing signal officer.
Color-coded boxes followed a pilot’s last name. Green for an okay landing. Yellow, fair with some degree of deviation. Red, no grade for an ugly approach. Brown, because the pilot had to be waved off due to unsafe conditions. And a blue line meant a “bolter,” which was a pilot who’d missed the wires and had to try again.
Not many aviators had the nerves of steel required to touch down on a floating airstrip at full throttle. But if a pilot couldn’t land on the deck and not in the drink he was useless to the Navy.
Though LSO scores were subjective, Michelle never lowered herself to lobby for preferential treatment. But one F-14 pilot stood out among the rest.
A line of green followed the name Prince. And it wasn’t because he was any better than she at landing the bulky F-14 Tomcats. He was simply a better schmoozer.
Captain Greene droned on. Zach shifted restlessly at her side while Michelle stewed over the yellow block at the end of her green streak.
Fair. She was better than fair.
For that particular landing she’d snagged only the third arresting wire strung across the deck. Sure she’d made a lineup correction at the start of her final pass, settling below the correct approach. But only because the carrier had been late turning into the wind. Flying low as she tried to “chase the lineup” had cost her an okay landing.
Zach never had to settle.
He flew with an instinct she envied. But no one was perfect, especially not Zach Prince.
“This isn’t the time or place.” Captain Greene’s raised voice intruded on her thoughts. “Both of you signed off on that memo I sent around last week, so I’m going to assume you read it. Fraternization among male and female pilots will no longer be tolerated, nor will any appearance of impropriety.
“The way I hear it, the two of you make regular treks to each other’s quarters. Those visits are to cease and desist at once. Here’s how it’s going to go down. This time you get off with a warning. Next time it goes in your record. And if it happens a third time—” he paused for effect “—one of you is out of here. Is that understood?”
The two of them?
Once again she’d been lumped together with her rule-breaking running mate. Guilt by association. And she could guess which one of them would be shipping out.
“Aye, aye, sir,” they responded in unison.
“You have a job to do. I expect you to do it in a professional manner. That’ll be all,” he dismissed them. “And Prince,” the captain called Zach back. “No more harassing Lieutenant Dann over the airwaves. It doesn’t set a good example…”
As the captain continued to rag on Zach, Michelle hurried to the hatch. She’d really had it with Zach this time. Seething with pent-up anger, she didn’t trust herself to say two words to the man. And she sure wasn’t about to wait around and let him smooth-talk her out of her fit of righteous indignation.
“Michelle!” Zach called from the other end of the narrow passageway, but heavy foot traffic kept him from reaching her.
Ignoring his pleas, she picked up her pace, weaving her way between shipmates.
As she headed toward the ship’s elevator, which would take her to the squadron changing room and then up to the flight deck, she cursed herself for being a class-A fool. Captain Greene’s warning was a serious one. Fat chance Zach would listen. She’d be better off putting in for a transfer now, before it became compulsory and a smear on her exemplary record.
Damn, Zach.
Why did she always have to be the responsible one?
Michelle pushed the elevator button repeatedly until it finally arrived and passengers emptied out. Then she quickly stepped inside and held down the close-door button.
“Michelle, wait up.” Zach reached in and sent the doors sliding in the opposite direction. “Going my way, Lieutenant?” he asked with a sheepish grin as if nothing was wrong.
“Do I have a choice, Lieutenant?” She waited just long enough for the doors to close, shutting off the two of them from curious onlookers. Then she turned and vented her anger by socking him in the arm. “I told you so!”
As the elevator started its ascent, he rubbed his shoulder. With his little-boy charm, he exaggerated the harm she’d inflicted “You don’t have to be so smug about it.”
“Smug? Because you’ll receive a slap on the wrist while I’ll get booted out of the Navy? If you won’t think about your career, at least think about mine. Do you have any idea how serious this is? We were lucky to get off with just a warning.” She faced forward and folded her arms.
“I know how serious I am about us…” The doors started to part. He moved to the control panel and held down the close-door button despite the rumble of protest from those waiting outside the elevator.
Because he stood directly in her line of vision she had no choice but to look at him. He stared at her with such burning intensity it would have been hard for her to ignore him, but whatever the promise in his eyes, she didn’t want to see it.
“There is no ‘us,’ Zach.”
“There’s always been an ‘us,’ Michelle.”
She could almost hear the sincerity in the deep baritone of his voice. But it only made her want to lash out, inflict more pain until he was feeling as conflicted as she felt every time she looked at him, every time she got behind the controls of her Tomcat. There was no room in her life for the two things she wanted most.
In the end she could only have one.
She knew what to expect from a machine. Her expectations for this particular man could only lead to heartbreak. The ability to compartmentalize one’s mind was a critical skill for a pilot. Zach didn’t fit neatly into any aspect of her life. Friend, boyfriend? Lover, squad leader?
Competition.
She had no option left but to cut him out completely.
“Get it into that thick skull of yours, Prince. I don’t love you! I’ve never loved you. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She batted his hand away from the hold button and fled as the doors slid open. She didn’t wait to hear if maybe, just maybe, his answer would give her the one thing she didn’t need right now.
Hope.
CHAPTER TWO
LEAVE HER ALONE? Zach stood in the wake of Michelle’s words and his own total disbelief. Like hell he would!
He was just about to start after her when the elevator began to fill up around him, bringing him back to his senses. She needed space. And he needed…damn, he couldn’t think of anything he needed except her.
He changed direction midstep. Jostling a senior officer on the way out, Zach mumbled a hasty apology. The commander growled something in return. Great, that probably cost him a grade on his next landin
g. The guy had a reputation for being a hard-ass LSO. But Zach didn’t feel like sucking up today.
He turned aft down the amidships passageway toward the nearest officers’ mess. He’d long since chewed the sugar out of his gum, but he punctuated his thoughts by snapping bubbles in rapid-fire succession.
Michelle had brought him as close as he’d ever come to losing his cool. As a rule, he had the easygoing nature of a middle child. With an over-achiever for an older sister, he’d naturally learned to keep up or get left behind. And because his kid brother worshiped the ground he walked on, he’d made sure the squirt came along for the ride. They were a competitive family.
But with Michelle, it was just that much easier to let her be the boss. He didn’t mind taking the back seat in their as-yet-undefined relationship. What he did mind was being dumped out on the highway at ninety miles an hour, mowed down and left as roadkill.
I don’t love you! I’ve never loved you. Why can’t you just leave me alone?
He didn’t believe her, but something was definitely wrong. She’d grown distant these past few months. He could feel her slipping away with each passing day. And he didn’t know how to hold on. So he’d taken the action of a man desperate and damned.
He’d bought an engagement ring.
Duty free. Right out of the Navy Exchange Catalog. Zach almost groaned out loud thinking about his lack of sensibility. He considered himself a pretty smart guy. He knew better than to purchase a diamond sight unseen.
For one thing it didn’t have any romantic appeal. The parcel had arrived yesterday at mail call—dripping wet after the helicopter had dropped a couple of mailbags into the ocean during transfer. The bundles had been retrieved by divers. Postal clerks had somehow managed to sort through illegible ink smears and soaked care packages to find their disgruntled recipients.
When he’d taken the ring from the soggy box, the plain gold band with its substandard crystallized carbon looked just about perfect nestled in the palm of his hand. From that moment on he couldn’t wait to slip the logical, if somewhat flawed, token of his esteem onto Michelle’s finger.
Sign, SEAL, Deliver Page 2