by Karen Foley
He glanced up at Sedona. “Intelligence sources on the ground said the target was on the move and would be past the point of engagement in about eight minutes. The second sortie was still fifteen minutes out, and it was unlikely they’d arrive in time.”
Sedona stared at him, mesmerized. “What did you do?”
And so he told her that with his remaining ordnance and scarcely enough fuel to make it back to the carrier, he had blown off his wingman and separated from formation, and gone in, low and fast. He’d dropped below the hard deck of ten thousand feet, putting himself into range of enemy surface-to-air missiles. He’d located the target and succeeded in destroying them just seconds before they might have reached a safe zone.
“I made a snap decision that put my wingman in danger when he chose to follow me. In the opinion of my commanding officer,” he said ruefully, “that was bad enough, but when I finally reached the USS Abraham Lincoln, I did a four-point victory roll across the bow of the carrier.” He shrugged. “They saw it as an act of glory-seeking theatrics and shipped me back to the East Coast to cool my heels and contemplate what it means to be a team player.”
“Sort of like a military version of a time-out.”
Angel gave her a half smile. “Sort of. My commanding officer said he doesn’t need any heroes in his jets. He wants team players who put their own safety and the safety of their wingmen first, not hotshot mavericks out to impress the top brass.”
Sedona frowned. “But surely he understood the position you were in? Didn’t it matter that you’d taken out the target and probably saved countless lives in the process?”
Angel set the saltshaker down with a small thump. “Independent thinking isn’t always encouraged in the military. I did what I thought was right, what I was trained to do.”
“What you love to do,” Sedona finished softly.
“Yes. Exactly.” Smiling ruefully, he shrugged. “I have no one to blame but myself. I knew what I was doing.”
“So you’re okay with being grounded.”
“I can accept the consequences, yeah. And just for the record, I haven’t been completely grounded. I’m doing test flights.” He lifted the glass of beer and contemplated the amber liquid before bringing it to his lips.
“But you miss combat flight.”
She’d surprised him again. It was there in the way his gaze snapped up to meet hers. His mouth lifted at the corner. “I do, yes. There’s nothing else like it.”
“Tell me about it.” She leaned forward, eager to hear him describe why he loved to fly, eager to hear him talk about anything he loved.
He set his beer down and his eyes grew distant. “If there is a heaven, I’d say streaking through the skies at Mach speed is the closest I’ve ever come to it. It’s exhilarating and frightening at the same time. It’s knowing you have the power of life and death in your control. It’s the thrill of avoiding detection, of eluding radar and completing the mission, despite the danger.” He laughed and shrugged. “I know, it sounds hokey, but it’s the truth.”
Sedona stared at him, humbled by the obvious passion in his voice, and jealous, too, knowing she’d never be able to share that part of his life with him.
“It sounds amazing.” Sedona sighed, and cupped her chin in her hand. “I’ve always wanted to fly in a Coyote,” she admitted. “It seems so…exciting.”
“Oh, it is.” He quirked an odd smile at her. “Who knows? Maybe someday you’ll get your chance.”
Sedona snorted. “I doubt it. I’m not a celebrity, and I’m not a member of the media, and those are the only people who get free rides in a Coyote. Lowly civil servants like me don’t rate.”
Angel laughed. “I’m not sure I agree with you.”
“Well,” she said, smiling, “I’m not even sure I’d actually have the courage to do it, given the chance. I’m humbled by guys like you who do it for a living, under the most hostile conditions imaginable.” She paused. “Do you think you’ll ever return to combat flight?”
“Christ, I hope so.” He held up a hand. “Not that I mind being a test pilot. It’s just not the same as flying sorties.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m glad you’re not flying combat missions.” She grinned. “After all, we wouldn’t be sitting here, making plans…”
His eyes glinted with sudden heat. Reaching into his wallet, he pulled several bills out and tossed them onto the table. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
“You don’t have to pay for my meal,” she ventured. “I’m on per diem while we’re out here.”
“Indulge me,” he said, and stood up. “You’ve already preempted me on the whole seduction thing, at least give me this.”
Sedona faltered. Was she being too aggressive? She knew there were guys in the office who were put off by her less-than-feminine ways. She sincerely hoped Angel wasn’t going to be one of those men who couldn’t treat a woman as an equal partner.
“Fine,” she conceded, pushing her chair back to stand up, “but I pay tomorrow night.”
He put a hand at the small of her back as he guided her out of the restaurant. “Oh, no, mina,” he said softly into her ear, “you’ll pay tonight.”
His words both thrilled and infuriated her. Thrilled her with their implicit promise of hedonistic pleasure; infuriated her with the implication that he was paying for her services.
“Listen, flyboy,” she said sweetly as they passed the hostess stand and stepped out into the darkness of the parking lot, “you’ll get nothing from me if you don’t watch your step. Paying for my meal does not instill you with any inalienable rights.”
She wasn’t prepared when he suddenly pushed her up against the side of the car, and followed with the long, lean heat of his own body against hers. He was pressed against her from thigh to breast, all hard, hot male. He smelled incredibly good.
“First of all, I am no boy.” He dipped his head and traced his lips along the side of her throat, causing her to gasp with sensation and silently agree with him. “Second of all—” his voice was low and rough against her skin “—I don’t expect anything from you that you’re not fully prepared to give of your own free will. Comprende? If I gave you that impression, it was completely unintentional. This, however, is not.”
He captured her face between his hands and claimed her lips in a kiss that was completely off the charts and seared Sedona all the way down to her toes.
She moaned.
He tasted faintly of the beer he’d been drinking. His mouth slanted hard across hers, forcing her lips apart for the intrusion of his tongue. There was nothing gentle about it; the kiss was designed to inflame and consume.
Sedona welcomed every scorching second.
She slid her hands upward, along his ribs and over his chest and curled one hand around the strong column of his neck. She found the heartbeat at the base of his throat and reveled in the feel of it pulsing strongly against her fingertips.
He feasted on her lips. He wasn’t just kissing them, he was plundering. She couldn’t think. If she wasn’t pinned against the car by his solid, delicious weight, she’d probably slither to the ground in a boneless pile of mush. She could only feel and respond. His thumbs smoothed over her cheekbones and his fingertips soothed the sensitive skin behind her ears as he held her face in his hands.
When she slid her hand between their bodies, he eased back just enough to give her room to explore. His stomach contracted when she touched the hard ridges of flesh beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. Oh, my. The guy was layer after layer of firm muscle. When her fingertips dropped lower and encountered his belt, he stiffened and groaned, deepening his kiss.
Sedona made a soft sound of approval and slid her hand lower to cup the impressive length of him beneath his jeans. Her knees turned to Jell-O. What did he have in there, a heat-seeking missile? Even through the denim, he was hard and hot, and larger than she’d anticipated. When her fingers closed around him, he jerked reflexively. She shifted against him
, uncomfortably aware of her own growing need.
He tore his lips from hers and grabbed her hand, dragging it upward. “Stop, mina,” he gasped. “You’re killing me.”
He curled her hand inside his and held it against his chest while he sucked in air. Sedona could feel the uneven thumping of his heart. She dropped her forehead against his shoulder and struggled to control her own erratic breathing. His body was big and warm and hard, and she could feel his erection pressing against her abdomen.
He chuckled softly, but there was no mistaking the rueful resignation in his voice as he gathered her closer. “Oh, man,” he groaned, “I am so screwed.”
8
SEDONA WAS HARDLY aware of driving back to the hotel. Her thoughts were fully occupied with the man sitting beside her, driving with ruthless speed and efficiency through the darkened streets.
He was impatient.
The realization both thrilled and terrified her. She couldn’t stop staring at his hands as he drove, admiring the long, lean fingers and knowing that soon they would be touching her with the same sure confidence. It was still unbelievable to her that Angel found her attractive. Not just attractive, either. Hot. It was as if she’d briefly fallen asleep and woken up in some alternate universe where smart, hunky guys fell for everyday, average Janes.
Sedona’s thoughts were interrupted when Angel parked the car. She found she couldn’t meet his eyes as he took her elbow and steered her across the parking lot to the front entrance. The lobby seemed garishly bright after the intimate darkness of the car. Pulsing music drifted toward them from the hotel lounge.
“Christ, that guy doesn’t waste any time,” Angel commented.
Through the doorway of the dimly lit lounge, she could see Ken Larson. He was standing close behind a young woman wearing a micromini and a tiny top. As Sedona watched, he bent his head and whispered something that made the girl throw her head back and laugh. At the same time, his hands skimmed down her sides to rest possessively on her hips as he pressed against her backside.
Sedona scowled. “He’s probably looking for his next promotion,” she muttered darkly.
“Are you saying she’s his boss?” Angel’s voice was incredulous.
“No, of course not,” Sedona assured him, anxious to change the subject. “It was just a bad joke.”
As if sensing her reluctance to be seen, Angel pushed her ahead of him toward the bank of elevators, using his bulk to shield her from view. Sedona was grateful for his thoughtfulness, as the last thing she wanted was an encounter with Ken Larson or any of his cronies. As far as Ken knew, she was still on board with trying to gain access to the Membership. She didn’t need him jumping to conclusions if he saw her with Angel, and she definitely didn’t need him making any comments about the Membership in Angel’s presence. If Ken wanted to get promoted by getting busy, it had nothing to do with her.
“Elevator’s here.”
Angel’s voice brought her abruptly out of her thoughts. With his hand lightly cupping her elbow, they stepped into the elevator. They were the only occupants, and during the short ride to the third floor, Sedona was aware of Angel watching her.
“Having second thoughts?” he asked softly.
Her eyes flew to his face. He dominated the tiny compartment with his size and presence. He hadn’t touched her during the ride back to the hotel and suddenly, Sedona was unaccountably shy. They were, perhaps, minutes from engaging in the greatest intimacy two people could share, and yet she was conscious they were little more than strangers. Having second thoughts? Only every moment since they’d arrived at the hotel. What if once she got her clothes off, he no longer found her attractive? What if she couldn’t please him? What if this whole thing was a huge mistake?
She drew in a fortifying breath. “Not if you aren’t.”
His eyes darkened perceptibly. “Not a chance, mina. But I’m trying really hard not to scare you. I don’t trust myself to touch you until we’re in your room.”
The elevator jerked to a stop and the doors slid open to their floor. Heart pounding, Sedona rummaged for her key as they walked side by side down the hallway. When they reached her room, Angel didn’t pause but continued past her to stop outside his own door.
“There’s a connecting door between our suites,” he said quietly as he eased his key card into his door. “Whenever you’re ready, unlock the door from your side. I’ll do the same.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded breathless. Inserting her key, she pushed open her door and slipped inside. As he’d said, there was a connecting door between their rooms that she hadn’t noticed earlier.
Almost immediately, she heard Angel unlocking and opening his side of the door. Once she did the same, there would be nothing to separate them.
She hesitated. Did she really have the guts to go through with this? She flipped on the overhead light in the small bathroom and studied her reflection critically. Her eyes were overly bright, her cheeks flushed. Acutely conscious of the man who waited for her on the other side of the locked door, she brushed her teeth, ran her fingers through her hair and drew in a deep breath. There was nothing more to do. She didn’t own any slinky lingerie, and probably wouldn’t have the courage to wear it even if she did. She consoled herself with the knowledge that at least her bra and panties were new.
After she’d left work yesterday, she’d gone straight to the mall to buy some last-minute items for her trip, and had gone into Victoria’s Secret on a whim. She’d spent a shocking amount of money on underwear, including one silky thong. She hadn’t been brave enough to wear it tonight, but at least she wasn’t wearing granny undies.
Drawing a deep breath, she stood in front of the connecting door, and with fingers that trembled, slowly flipped the lock open and turned the knob.
* * *
ANGEL HEARD THE rasp of the lock in the door. His heart thumped unevenly in his chest. Christ, he was actually nervous. He tried to relax. It was no big deal. She was just a woman, after all, and he’d had more than his share of women. He could handle this. The only reason she’d tested his self-restraint earlier was because he’d been celibate for so long. He never fraternized with female crewmates when he was aboard a carrier, and he’d been at sea for ten long months. It was just his healthy, male hormones reacting to a pretty woman, nothing more.
He’d exchanged his loafers for a pair of flip-flops, and had made sure he had a supply of condoms in the bedside table. In the few minutes before Sedona unlocked the door, he’d located a couple of single-serving bottles of wine in the minibar and put them in a bucket of ice. He’d tuned the bedside radio to a station that played soft music, and dimmed all the lights except for the one in the bathroom, and even then he’d closed the door so only a thin shaft of light fell across the carpet.
He was as ready as he was ever going to be. If seduction was what the lady wanted, he was happy to oblige. They were both adults, after all. Hell, she’d all but said it was just about the sex, so who was he to complain? He was definitely okay with it being about the sex.
But when the door opened and Sedona stepped shyly into the room, his stomach knotted with something that might have been nervous anticipation.
“Oh,” she said, tipping her head, listening. “Is that Anita Baker? I love her songs, they’re so romantic.”
Until that moment, Angel had barely noticed the soft love song playing on the radio. “Well, then, we’re off to a good start.” He lifted the small wine bottle, questioning. “Care for a glass?”
Sedona came into the room and took the proffered glass, her eyes sliding over the bed and away. Angel wondered if she was imagining the two of them tangled in the bedding, skin sliding over skin. But when she tipped the wineglass back and drained the contents in one long swallow, he was concerned.
“A little false courage?” He took the empty wineglass and set it on the bedside table, smiling as she wiped her mouth with her fingertips and shuddered slightly.
“I wouldn’t mind a little m
ore.” She reached for Angel’s glass, standing full next to hers, but he caught her wrist.
“I think maybe we’ll hold off for a bit, mina.” He tugged her toward him, his thumb sliding over the underside of her wrist where her pulse beat frantically. “I want you conscious and at least partially sober.”
She didn’t protest when he drew her wrist upward and settled her arm around his neck, and drew her into the circle of his arms with his other hand at her waist. She released her breath on a soft sigh and leaned into him. Her fingers caressed the back of his neck.
“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” she murmured, and pressed her lips tentatively against the base of his throat.
“You can still change your mind.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Angel wanted to retract them. What a dumb-ass thing to say. He absolutely did not want this woman to change her mind. He’d been hard for her since he saw her in the fitness room. He wanted to spend the next eight hours doing decadent things with her. But he didn’t want Sedona to be with him if she wasn’t absolutely sure it was what she wanted.
“No chance, flyboy,” she said, smiling against his throat. “I’ve spent my entire life doing things to make other people happy. This is one opportunity I am not about to pass up.”
Angel breathed a silent thank-you and pulled her fully against him. “Good,” he said, his voice husky, and tipped a finger beneath her chin, tilting her face upward. His eyes searched hers, and he watched as the uncertainty that lingered there was slowly replaced with something else, something languorous and heated. She moistened her lips, drawing his attention irresistibly to her mouth.
“I have to kiss you,” he confessed, and dipped his head to stroke his lips across the tempting lushness of hers.
Sedona made a soft purring sound of approval and pressed closer. She parted her lips and teased him with slippery, soft strokes of her tongue against his. She caressed the back of his neck even as her other hand crept up to his rib cage and then slid around to the small of his back to draw him closer.