The Christmas Wild Bunch

by Lindsay McKenna

  He wanted to do more than just hold her hand, dammit! Yet it had to be enough for now. And it was. His heart was soaring with happiness.

  “I woke up an hour ago,” Dallas confessed, holding his smoldering gaze, which made her body respond even though she was still feeling weak. “The nurse said I was calling out for you.”

  “Well, we were in the middle of a firefight,” he reminded her, “and I’m sure your brain recalled that.” He assumed a cocky, teasing expression. “Hey, I’m single, good-looking and available. Why wouldn’t you call out for me in your moment of need?”

  Dallas managed a wry smile and gripped his callused hand. She wondered what it would be like to kiss Murdoch. Suddenly smitten by the shape of his mouth, and how it moved, Dallas realized how much she liked having this guy in her life. “You’re so full of yourself, dude.”

  “And you like me despite that, right?” He smiled wickedly. Her soft, full lips curved upward, and heat tunneled through Murdoch. Right now, Dallas was vulnerable because of her injury, and he wanted to tread lightly.

  “I suppose it won’t hurt to admit that I do like you a little bit,” she murmured, meeting his gleaming eyes, which promised her so much. Lifting her hand, she pointed to the bandage on her temple. “Do me a favor? Get me the hell out of here. I want to go home, to my apartment. I hate hospitals, Mike. Can you talk to the physician and get me released? Please?”

  Her pleading look tore at him. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Are you in pain?”

  “No. They’re giving me aspirin. The nurse said I had bruised my temple. My thick skull’s intact.” She laughed. “For once it pays off to be hardheaded.”

  When Murdoch released her hand, Dallas felt as if the sun had stopped shining. He had such a positive effect on her! How could this man, who had been so difficult, suddenly mean more to her than any other guy ever had?

  “Okay, boss lady, I’ll go hunt down your doctor and see what I can wrangle out of him. I’ll be back,” he promised.

  * * *

  Dallas was chomping at the bit. Forty minutes had passed. What was Murdoch doing? She knew the hospital physicians were sometimes tough to track down, being so busy. Before she could work herself up anymore, the door opened and Murdoch entered. He was beaming, his mouth pulled into the broadest smile she’d ever seen.

  “This looks like good news,” she said, exasperation in her voice. “Is he letting me go?”

  Murdoch rubbed his hands together as he came over and sat down in the chair. “Well, she, Dr. Maria Alvarez, is going to release you on one condition.”

  Dallas searched his twinkling eyes. “Okay, Murdoch, what did you finagle? There’s a hitch in this. I can smell it.”

  He eyed her innocently. “Hey, Dr. Alvarez was pretty amicable about this idea under the circumstances. At first, when I found her, she didn’t want to release you at all.” He preened a little. “But with my good looks, my persuasive melt-a-woman smile, she gave in to my little plan to get you out of here.”

  “Uh-oh,” Dallas said, swayed by that wonderful male smile herself. “Okay, what’s the deal? What do I owe you?”

  Murdoch chuckled. “The doctor is going to release you to me for the next twenty-four hours. She feels you need to be watched, to make sure no other symptoms manifest from that bruise to your head.”

  “Released to you? What does that mean?”

  “I get to take you over to my apartment for the next twenty-four hours.” He noted her surprise. “Don’t worry, Dallas. You’ll get my bedroom, and I’ll sleep out on the couch. It’s not what you think.” Although he wished it was. Her gold eyes conveyed shock, and then her mouth set, which meant she was considering her options. “Hey,” he cajoled, “it can’t be that bad, can it? I’ll make you chicken soup. I’m rather good at cooking, in case you didn’t know. All Dr. Alvarez wants is to have a set of eyes on you to make sure you don’t develop dizziness, vomiting or stuff like that. She said that normally, in a case like yours, they keep you one day for observation after you regain consciousness.”

  “Humph.” Dallas raised an eyebrow. “Murdoch, if I didn’t know better, I’d suspect you concocted this whole scheme from beginning to end.”

  “For once I’m innocent,” Mike protested, while inwardly gloating over the situation. The beginnings of a smile curved her delicious lips. “Well? Can I sweep you off your feet, my lady? I’ll carry you to my charger, and we’ll blow this joint.”

  “Anything is better than staying here.”

  Giving her a hurt look, Murdoch said, “Come on. I can’t be the lesser of two evils, can I?”

  “That’s exactly what you are,” Dallas muttered.

  “Then how come you look so happy?”

  “Because anything’s better than a hospital, that’s why.” Dallas grinned.

  Murdoch refused to be rebuffed by her, especially since she was teasing him. He could see the joy banked in her gold eyes. “Well, I’ll just have to persuade you that I’m a very good deal under the circumstances.”

  “Make me that chicken soup, Murdoch, and we’ll talk. Okay?”

  * * *

  Dallas sat at the kitchen table in Murdoch’s condo and savored the chicken soup. “Mmm, this is good,” she murmured. “The only thing missing is my mother’s matzo balls.”

  Mike sat at her elbow, eating a huge Caesar salad with strips of grilled chicken breast. It was nearly 7:00 p.m., but the night was young, and he was enjoying Dallas’s company. “You cook much? Maybe you can teach me how to make them someday?”

  “I love to cook. Just never have the time,” she griped good-naturedly. When they’d gotten home, Murdoch had shown her to the bathroom, where she’d enjoyed a long, luxurious bath, washed her hair and changed into clean clothes that they’d picked up from her apartment earlier. The bandage they’d put on was waterproof, thank goodness. Dallas felt comfortable wearing a soft cotton Peruvian shift that fell to her ankles. The gold-and-purple orchids embroidered around the neckline and hem made her feel very feminine. But maybe that was due to the burning look in Murdoch’s eyes. He treated her like a woman, not an air-combat commander.

  Mike waved a hand toward his small and efficient kitchen. “Hey, when we start getting some time off, come on over. My mother taught me how to cook as soon as I was old enough to peer over the kitchen counter.”

  “Smart mom. Men should know how to cook and clean, just like any woman does.”

  “I keep telling you, I’m not the Neanderthal you think I am.” He grinned at her lasciviously.

  “I admit, I had some pretty intractable opinions about you.” She finished off the soup, picked up her fork and began to help herself from his salad bowl. “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.”

  “I like to share.”

  “Yeah, I bet you do,” Dallas chuckled softly. “Hey, you make a mean Caesar dressing. You really do know how to cook.”

  “Just one more thing to love about me.”

  Groaning, Dallas nibbled on a piece of the savory, herbed chicken. She could taste the lemon basil. “Stop selling yourself, Murdoch. It won’t do any good.”

  “No? What does it take to get you to fall for me, then?”

  The music he’d put on was low and mellow, and she found herself relaxing even more. “Just be yourself. You don’t need to convince me. I work with you every day, remember?”

  “So,” he said, raising his brows and spearing some romaine lettuce with his fork, “have I sold you yet?”

  “You don’t play fair, Murdoch.” Her eyes teased him.

  “No?” He sighed and enjoyed simply watching her. Dallas’s hair was still damp, and it gleamed with gold highlights in the light of the chandelier. This was the first time he’d seen her in something other than a flight suit. She made that loose-fitting cotton gown look damn good. “How do I not play fair?”

  “You’re too blunt and forward.”

  “What? About liking you? About wanting to pursue something with you other than being air b
uddies?”

  She dipped her head to hide her burgeoning smile. “You just don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

  “Never. Not when it’s something I want.”

  “You’re a wild man, Murdoch. The C.O. named you and your friends well—the Wild Bunch.”

  “But you love wild, Dallas. From what you’ve told me about the Black Jaguar Squadron, it’s a bunch of wild women. You go for primal.” He met her laughter-filled eyes. How badly he wanted to get up, lift her out of that chair and kiss her silly.

  “Point taken. We are wild women. The whole premise of the BJS was cooked up by Major Maya Stevenson, and she’s as wild as they come.”

  “Yes,” Murdoch said patiently, “and you were her X.O. for six years, so what does that make you?”

  Dallas held up her hand. “Okay, guilty as charged.”

  “So, why wouldn’t a wild man and a wild woman find happiness in a relationship with one another?” he posed archly, pointing his fork in her direction. Dallas was hungry and eagerly consuming a good portion of his salad, but Mike didn’t mind. She was alive. She was getting well. That was all that mattered to him.

  “I suppose they might,” she admitted. She wasn’t tasting the delicious salad anymore, her heart and body were reacting to Murdoch’s nearness. It seemed as if she were sitting next to sunlight; she felt warm, soft and achy in all the right places. And he damn well knew that she was enamored with him.

  The only thing that held Dallas back was that shortly, the Pentagon was going to assign her somewhere in the world with a new Black Jaguar Squadron. What then? Mike loved his job. He was a civilian. He had a life here in Arizona, where he’d been born and raised. She figured he wouldn’t want to pull up his roots and become an aimless tumbleweed, following her around the globe. Past experience had shown her that few men would ever consider such a scenario.

  Frustration thrummed through Murdoch. How to convince this feisty, no-nonsense woman to fall into his arms and allow him to love her until she melted like hot wax? “I have an idea. A proposition of sorts.”

  Dallas sat back and drank from her iced tea glass. Seeing the playful look of hurt on his handsome face, she said, “What idea?”

  “Christmas is coming up shortly. I make a mean turkey stuffed with cranberries, apples and raisins. How about you agree to come over for a great gourmet dinner midafternoon Christmas Day, and consider staying overnight afterward?”

  CHAPTER 6

  “Merry Christmas, Dallas!” Nike Alexander called as she entered the ops shack. “BJS rides again, only in disguise here in Nogales. How are you?” She grinned widely at her old X.O., who had been working behind the ops desk.

  “Nike!” Dallas jumped up and quickly rounded the desk, throwing her arms about the Greek woman. “Hey, you’re two days early!” She stepped back and beamed at the black-haired, brown-eyed helicopter pilot. Cut short with a few wispy bangs across her broad forehead, Nike’s hair shone like a raven’s wing.

  “Yeah, I couldn’t stand all that time off,” she griped good-naturedly, tossing her helmet bag on the desk. “I’m a trauma junkie. All BJSers are. We live to fight. Fight to survive. You know that. I just came off a thirty-day leave ten days early. I loved going home to Athens. My parents and big brothers and their wives threw me all kinds of parties—drinking, dancing, feasting…. They all wanted me to stay through Christmas. But I started to pine away for some ass-kicking action.” She laughed and gripped Dallas’s upper arm. “It’s so good to see you again! I really didn’t want to leave BJS, you know?”

  “No one does,” Dallas said, smiling at the pilot. “Coffee?” She had decorated the ops office for the holidays, draping silver tinsel across the two windows, hanging plastic mistletoe above the counter. She made sure some upbeat Christmas music played on their CD player. The crews really appreciated a woman’s touch.

  “Well, it isn’t Greek coffee, but I’m hoping since you’re X.O. here you at least got good South American espresso?” She peered hopefully toward the coffee station behind the ops desk.

  Chuckling, Dallas poured them some of the freshly made brew. “Oh, you can count on that, Nike.” She handed her a cup. “Great Brazilian coffee, no less.”

  “Thanks. Hey, I just met Bob and Jake over in the hangar. They’re getting ready for this morning’s mission.” She squinted. “What’s this about you getting wounded? You look fine to me.”

  Sipping her coffee, Dallas sat down at her desk. “It was nothing. Just a graze from a druggie’s bullet. He and I were firing at each other at pretty much point-blank range.” She touched her temple. “This happened two weeks ago. It’s all healed up and I’m fine, so no worries.”

  “Whew!” Nike said. She leaned against the counter, holding the cup between her small, delicate-looking hands. “So, I heard some scuttlebutt down at BJS just before I left. Is it true? Are the boys at the Pentagon giving serious consideration to the formation of a second BJS unit? And are you slated to be its C.O.? Please, please, tell me it’s true because…” she looked around the cramped office and lowered her voice “…as much as I appreciate coming here and flying a fixed wing, I’d much rather have an Apache helo strapped to my butt, doing real combat.”

  “Yes, it’s true, but keep that top secret between you and me.”

  Raising her finely shaped black brows, Nike flashed a wide smile. “You know us BJS women—we live together, we die together. We’re tight. No worries. So, am I on your short list to go with you?”

  “You’re on the list,” Dallas murmured with a smile. “Again, top secret info at this point.”

  “Gotcha. Hey, your friend Major Kat Wallace is doing special duty right now over in Virsland. Sounds like there’s some hot action going on over there.” Nike rubbed her hands together. “You think the Pentagon will put the second BJS squadron in Europe somewhere? I’m itching to put my hand back on a Gatling gun and missiles, to fire at the baddies. I’m so addicted to stress.”

  Holding up her palm, Dallas said, “I just got a call from someone in the Pentagon who’s in on the planning. He told me yesterday that it’s looking good to have BJS in Europe or Afghanistan for the first of next year. That’s all he told me.”

  “I sure hope it’s in the Baltic region.”

  Dallas grinned sourly over her officer’s enthusiasm; Apache pilots were known for their fierce, assertive attitudes. “My unnamed source told me that some of the women who are graduating soon from Apache school are slated to be assigned to me and the new BJS unit. They are military pilots from various countries, just like our first BJS unit was. A little United Nations of sorts, which makes me happy.”

  “How cool!” Nike did a little dance, waving her arms above her head. Coming back to the desk, she grew more serious. “Okay, so between now and the first of the year, we play in Mexico’s backyard, chasing the baddies in our putt-putt Cessnas, right?”

  “Something like that.” Dallas smiled. “Your new partner, Captain Charlie Steinway, has already arrived. I’m pairing you up with him. He’s the father of two cute girls, and his wife is an accountant who just got a job in a Nogales legal firm. I think you’ll like him. He’s easygoing.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s a throwback Neanderthal.”

  “Nope, he’s a progressive male, Nike. He won’t be prejudiced against you or your experience. Charlie is open to women doing it all.”

  “My kind of guy.” And then she blew air out between her lips. “Speaking of guys. Damned if I can find a good one to have a long-term relationship with, Dallas. You know those Latino men down in Peru are to die for, but they aren’t about to leave their huge extended families and become globetrotters with the woman they profess to love.”

  “Don’t I know that one.” Dallas remembered all the pain over her old lover and his angst about leaving his family to follow her on her career path outside Peru.

  “Those Latin studs were great for dancing and partying, but forget the rest,” Nike griped. “I’m twenty-eight. I keep having
dreams about finding a dude who loves me as I am and will follow me to the ends of the earth, no questions asked.”

  “Oh,” Dallas said with a laugh, “that is the problem. Men haven’t come that far yet, from what I can see.” She thought about Murdoch. Her heart wanted him. Her body wanted him. She even dreamed about making love with him. Would Mike follow her to her next assignment, somewhere in Europe or wherever the Pentagon eventually placed the new BJS squadron? Dallas wasn’t sure he would, which was why she was putting the brakes on their relationship.

  Christmas was only two days away. Her heart sped up in anticipation. No question, she wanted to go to bed with Murdoch.

  In a few short months, he had turned from caveman and frog into a handsome prince before her very eyes. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. But the great question was did he love her? Enough to leave his job with the Border Patrol and follow her to her next military assignment? That, she wasn’t at all sure of.

  “Are you flying on Christmas Day?” Nike asked.

  “Not planning on it. As X.O., I make out the mission plans, and I persuaded the C.O. to give everyone the day off. We’ve been at this 24-7, Nike. Everyone is tired.”

  “Getting replacements will help ease that situation, though,” her friend pointed out, sipping her coffee with relish.

  “Right on. I still want to give the guys time off for the major holidays if I can.”

  “You know Navarro, though,” Nike warned, setting her white mug down on the counter. “He knows the norte americano penchant for being softies on big holidays. That’s when he usually mounts a huge air campaign to get drugs out of a country or move them from one place to another. You do recall that?”

  “Yes, I do,” Dallas said, worriedly looking through some of her paperwork. “If I get a call from the federales that their radar is picking up a lot of Cessnas in the air on Christmas Day, well, I’m going to have to change gears and ask everyone to come in and fly. I don’t want to, though.”