Crossing the Line

by Candace Irvin

  As for his heart?

  That was anyone’s guess.

  In less than twenty-four hours Ernesto’s world had been tossed upside down and then shredded. His stepmother had been arrested. A man he’d known and trusted most of his life was dead. His brother blamed him for getting bumped down in the pecking order and his father had been weaned far enough off his morphine to name him for a job he never wanted in the first place. Yeah, the man was doing just swell.

  The stark pain in his eyes confirmed it.

  “I am fine, my friend, or I shall be. If you do not go soon, however, you may suffer another fate.”

  “What you talking about? General Gage assured me—”

  “I was not referring to your career, but your lady. She stopped by ten minutes ago. In fact, she may already be gone.”

  Gone?

  Eve should be sleeping by now.

  Then again, he should have returned to their room three hours ago. Still, she had to have assumed he’d been held up, had to know he’d be back for her. But something in Ernesto’s stance said not. And then there was the way Eve had pulled away from him after he’d eliminated Arista and his men—and had been oddly distant since. Granted, not many women could deal with the reality of what he’d done that day, and how he’d accomplished it. But he was sure she could.

  All he had to do was picture Arista’s hands on her body to know he’d do it again.

  But would she?

  “Ernie, what happened?”

  “She stopped by, asked how I was doing, noted that the Huey was still in the courtyard—and then asked for permission to take it up.”

  “Why the devil would she want to fly now?”

  Unfortunately, his friend shrugged. “After all that has happened today, I did not ask.”

  Suddenly, he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  He was also scared.

  Even if the pain medication had kicked in, she couldn’t have gotten enough sleep. She was too tired to fly, dammit. Much less at night. And if she was upset…

  “I gotta go.”

  By the time the door slammed behind him, he was halfway down the corridor. It took far too long to wind his way out through the familiar hallways. By the time he reached the last turn his boots were hitting the blood-red tiles at a double-time. He forced himself to stop short just shy of the courtyard door and draw air into his lungs, to calm his pounding heart.

  He couldn’t hear blades on the other side.

  Either he had time—or it was already too late.

  He nodded to the presidential guard and shoved the door open—and breathed easier. Until he spied Eve.

  Her fully loaded rucksack.

  His heart began pounding again.

  Painfully.

  He crossed the cobblestones silently, waiting until he was four feet behind her before he cleared his throat. “I thought running was my standard operating procedure.”

  He held his breath as Eve stiffened.

  A second later, she dropped her ruck. It slid off the Huey’s skid and landed on the cobblestones at her boots. The moment she drew in a deep, shaky breath and turned, he knew he was right. She was running.

  Damn, but it stung.

  Not that he didn’t deserve the slap. After all, Eve had taught him how to love. All he’d done was teach her how to turn tail and retreat. Ernie might not know where she was headed, but he did. She planned on returning the Huey to the hangars it shared with the wing of American Black Hawks on the outskirts of town. She obviously hoped to grab a cot in the barracks with her unit and log her first full night’s sleep in weeks—without him.

  “Well?”

  The word hung between them for so long, he could feel the awkward silence settling in around it. Around them. After everything they’d shared it just plain hurt.

  But so did she.

  He could see it in her gaze, in the way she struggled to keep it focused on his. That hurt even more than her running.

  The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “I…guess I should have waited, but it’ll be dark soon. I wanted to have the bird home by then.” She paused as if she expected him to say something.

  What? Goodbye?

  The hell he would.

  Her gaze finally fled from his. “Well, um, thanks again for everything. I’ll…see you sometime.” She turned to the Huey and reached for her ruck. He snagged it before she could and held it suspended between them, determined not to let it go. Not to let her go.

  “I blew it, didn’t I?”

  For several horrifying moments he was afraid she wasn’t going to answer. She finally turned back, staring up at him as she shook her head slowly. “No. If anyone blew it, it was me. I never should have asked for more than you were willing to give.” She reached for her ruck again. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.”

  Her hands fell to her sides.

  He watched as the shock of his words ignited the emerald flame in her eyes. Hope followed.

  It stoked his own.

  He tightened his hands on the ruck before she could try to claim it again and tossed it behind her—well away from the chopper. “You were right. Ernie was right. Hell, so was Turner. I was running. Fast. For a long time, from life. But lately, from you too. But then I began wondering if maybe I could handle what I felt for you…until last night proved I couldn’t. But I want to. God, I want to. Eve, I love you.”

  He heard her breath catch, watched those beautiful green eyes glisten. He waited for what seemed like eons.

  But she didn’t speak.

  “Sweetheart? Say something. Please.”

  The tears just flowed harder.

  “Honey, you’re scaring me. I admit it took me a while, but I finally realized I might have helped restore your wings only to ground you again, at least temporarily. I’ll make it up to you. I swear it.” He’d take a damned desk job if that’s what it took. “Just tell me you want this baby.”

  She found her voice then. “You think I’m pregnant?”

  He winced as her words echoed across the courtyard. Even the pair of loyal presidential guardsmen loitering a discreet distance away stiffened. The moment the brunt of her shock ripped through his panic, so did he. “You’re not? I mean, it’s probably too soon to tell, but—”

  “It’s not. I’m not. Oh, God.” She turned and slumped down into the side of the Huey. “I can’t believe this. Just once I’d like to hear the words without something besides sex or fear or adrenaline driving them.” She stared up at him and shook her head as he stood in front of her, bemused. “Rick, I finished my cycle when we left Panama. I’m not ovulating. I know that’s not a guarantee, but it would be a pretty long, long shot. I guess I should have told you last night, but I wasn’t thinking clearly beforehand. And afterward…” She didn’t finish. He knew why.

  He hunkered down in front of her knees and tipped her chin. “And after, I behaved like an ass.”

  “Yeah.”

  He combed his fingers into her curls, still damp from her bath and smoothed them from her face. “Would it help to know the only running I plan on doing from now on is to you?”

  He didn’t deserve the fresh set of tears that slipped down, but he took them.

  Cherished them.

  Deep in his soul he knew that these were a precious gift. He caught them with his thumbs as he’d been driven to the day of the crash. Then he leaned forward and smoothed them from her soft skin with his lips. When he’d dried every last one of them, he eased his mouth over her bruised jaw and whispered the rest in her ear. “I don’t have a ring on me, honey, but I do have my heart. Please take it. I love you, Eve. Marry me. I’m ready to come out of the jungle now. I want to come home.”

  He wasn’t glossing over his sergeant, the past or the crash. He knew damn well he still had a lot of healing to do.

  They both did.

  They could heal together. He cupped his hands to her face and waited. The tears streamed down again, then finally ebbed. />
  And then she nodded.

  Smiled.

  “I already have a ring, Rick, and three more Sisters. What I don’t have—what I desperately need—is you.”

  His heart swelled until it damn near exploded with joy. He couldn’t help it, he scooped her up into his arms with a whoop that reverberated throughout the courtyard. He turned his back on the chopper and Eve’s gear, leaving both to the presidential guard as he struck out across the cobblestones and into the palace, ignoring her protests all the way.

  “Rick, the Huey! Someone has to—”

  He covered her lips with his and swallowed the rest as he turned down the first corridor, deepening the kiss as he turned down the second, and the third. The hell with that blasted chopper. Ernesto could find his own damned pilot. This one was his. He turned down the final corridor and kicked the door at the end open, slamming it firmly shut behind them and throwing the lock before he strode across the carpet. He reached out and snapped the white bedspread to the foot board with one hand.

  “Tired?”

  Amusement quirked her lips and her brow as she stared up at him, still in his arms. He tossed her onto the sheets in lieu of an answer, stripping off his T-shirt and his jungle boots—and then finally his trousers, his skivvies and socks in one final sweep before he crawled in after her.

  Precisely three seconds later, she moaned.

  By then, Eve knew he had no intention of sleeping.

  Not for a very, very long time.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-0108-8

  CROSSING THE LINE

  Copyright © 2002 by Candace Phillips Irvin

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