"You tried that line already. It didn't work the first time."
"What is this?" she asked, confused and beginning to feel a little annoyed. "When did my personal life become a matter of such interest to you?"
"Since the first time I laid eyes on you back in New Mexico."
He dropped that bombshell so calmly, so casually, that it took a few seconds for the full impact to hit.
"Are you saying you've...you've..."
She stumbled, not quite sure how to phrase matters at this point. Mac supplied the missing link.
"Had the hots for you since day one? As a matter of fact, I have."
Her jaw dropped. Several scenes from the past months flashed into her mind. In most of them, she and Russ McIver had been'squaring off for another round.
He must have sensed her shock. She saw the ghost of a grin sketch across his face.
"I know. It's kind of knocked me off my stride, too."
"Ha!" That at least she could respond to. "If I knocked you off stride any time in the past four months, you sure as heck hid it well."
"Every time I was ready to make my move, you'd get another call from Wharton. I saw the pressure those calls put on you. I wasn't going to add to it."
Cari had no idea Mac had observed her so closely. Or pegged her uncertainty over her relationship with Jerry so accurately. More confused than ever, she pushed away from the tree trunk, sat up straight and tried to see his face in the gloom.
"You didn't hesitate to add some pressure this afternoon," she reminded him pointedly. "You didn't know I'd ended things with Jerry when you laid that kiss on me."
"No, I didn't. We can chalk that one up to galloping adrenaline."
That was pretty much what Cari had figured. Still, hearing Mac confirm it put a decided dent in her ego. Before she could formulate an appropriate response, however, he reached over and curved a palm around her nape.
"This one," he said as he tugged her closer, "is for real."
It was. Most definitely. For real.
His mouth came down on hers, not as hard as it had that afternoon, but every bit as hungry. Surprise held Cari stiff-shouldered for a moment. Only for a moment. Then his lips moved over hers and hunger spiked through her.
She wanted more than a taste this time. She wanted teeth and tongue. A little full-frontal contact would be nice, too, she decided on a rush of heat. Twisting sideways, she wrapped her arms around his neck. The move brought their upper bodies into play, but left the lower portions at an awkward angle. Mac solved the problem by snaking his other arm around her waist and hauling her across his lap.
"There," he murmured against her mouth. "That's better."
"Much better."
Her agreement began on a breathy laugh and ended on a gulp. She was still at an angle, but wouldn't complain about the amount of contact now. She could feel his thighs under hers, his ribs against her breast, the bristly hair on the back of his neck beneath her palm. His front was bristly, too, she discovered when his cheeks and chin rasped against hers.
"This isn't real smart," she gasped after she came up for air.
"Not smart at all," Mac agreed, nuzzling her throat. "Want me to stop?"
His teeth scraped a path along the tender skin, his tongue ignited a trail of fire.
"Later," she got out on a breathless gasp.
Much later.
First she wanted to feel his hands on her, wanted her hands on him...without several layers of chemically treated jungle BDUs between them. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, shoved the flaps aside, ran her palms over the planes and curves covered by a wide expanse of black cotton T-shirt.
Mac did the same, except he made shorter work of her buttons and didn't stop with her T-shirt. One swift yank pulled up the hem, exposing her sports bra. Another tug brought the springy spandex lower, baring the slopes of her breasts. They were on the small side, like the rest of her, but provided more than enough material for Mac's busy, busy hands and mouth to work with.
His breath came through the spandex, hot and wet. His teeth found the tight, eager nipple pushing against the elastic. Within moments, fire was shooting from Cari's breast straight to her belly. Moments more, and she was squirming frantically on his lap.
"Oh, babe," he half muttered, half groaned. "Another move like that and it will be too late."
"Huh?"
Lost to the sensations piling one on top of the other, Cari struggled to put the skids on her whirling senses. It took a hard, insistent probe at her left rear cheek to penetrate her sensual haze.
"Oh. Right."
Tugging down her bra, she wiggled off his lap. She heard a long, low hiss, followed by a sound that could only be teeth grinding.
"Wrong time, wrong place," she said with a shaky laugh. She was pushing the buttons of her shirt through their holes when Mac curled a knuckle under her chin and tipped her face to his.
"There'll be a right time," he promised gruffly. "And a right place."
"Will there?"
"Damn straight."
Now that some semblance of sanity had returned, Cari wasn't so sure. With any luck, they'd depart Ca-ribe and hit the open sea by noon. After that, it was only a matter of weeks—maybe days—until the Pegasus test cadre disbanded. When that happened, she'd go back to her home station in Maryland and Mac would return to the marine corps base at Cherry Point, North Carolina.
The thought depressed her. More, she realized with a small shock, than her abrupt decision to terminate her yearlong relationship with Jerry Wharton.
Whoa! How the heck had she let things get so heavy, so fast? She'd just opted out of one relationship that had presented insurmountable challenges. She had to be crazy to even think about jumping out of that situation into one involving a gung ho marine. Particularly a marine who held very definite opinions on just about everything and didn't hesitate to express them.
Torn between regret and relief that they'd stopped when they had, Cari shoved the last button through its hole and tucked her shirt inside her waistband to keep out the mosquitoes. A quick glance at her watch provided an excuse to put some distance between her and Mac and let the dust settle a bit.
"It's almost four. You sure you don't want to go back to the village and grab another hour or two of sleep?"
"I'm sure."
The dry response told Cari he was still wound as tight as she was. Neither one of them were likely to uncoil in the remaining hours before dawn.
"Then I'll head back and round up a work crew as soon as it turns light. With the help of some strong backs and sharp machetes, we'll soon have Pegasus back in trim."
Or so she hoped.
♥ Scanned by Coral ♥
Chapter 6
Seven hours later, Cari stood on the bank of the Rio Verde while Janice White doctored a deep, slicing cut in the web of skin between her thumb and forefinger. Wet hair straggled in long tangles around her face and shoulders. River water slicked down her face and plastered her pants to her body. She'd discarded her BDU shirt but a large, boisterous crowd of observers had prevented her from stripping down to her bra.
Shaking her head, she surveyed the scene of what had begun as a recovery operation and now looked more like a three-ring circus. Dugout canoes were strung across the river, filled with Caribes calling out advice and beating the surface with sticks to keep away any unwanted underwater creatures. Women squatted on the bank, laughing and chatting and offering their own opinions on the operation. Shrieking children cannonballed through the ferns into the river and sent up sparkling geysers. With the quicksilver agility of minnows, they darted around the craft Cari and Mac had yet to free from the last remnants of the fishing net.
The Whites and their charges had joined the throng who'd turned out to observe the recovery operation. Rosa, the bright-eyed little girl with the twisted spine, sat cross-legged next to the boy with the cleft palate. Together they described events for Miguel, whose sightless eyes couldn't see what was happening. Pa
ulo stood a little apart from the others. His face was set in its habitual sco'wl as he glared at the marine treading water at Pegasus's stern.
Like Cari, Mac had discarded his fatigue shirt. He'd also stripped off his black cotton T-shirt. Water glistened on his bare shoulders and arms as he waited for Janice White to finish treating Cari's cut.
His lip curling, Paulo looked from the marine to Cari. When he whipped up his hands and signed a message, Janice White interpreted.
"Paulo says the major has big paws."
No kidding! Having experienced the movement of those paws over strategic points of her body just last night, Cari could vouch for their size.
"Too big, Paulo says."
For their current task, anyway. She and Mac had already conceded that point.
After determined hacking, they'd cut through the larger vines and cleared away most of the obstruction. Now they were down to the small, fibrous tentacles caught in the threads of the engines. It was painstaking work, done under water in murky light with only the pencil-thin flashlights to guide them. Mac was now relegated to holding the light while Cari's smaller, more nimble fingers probed the sharp blades and screws. The very sharp blades and screws.
Another cut like this one and she'd start worrying about piranha being drawn by the blood. The hastily thrown together briefing she and Mac had received on Caribe's riverine conditions hadn't indicated any native man-eating species besides crocs, which the villagers were keeping a sharp eye out for. But then their pre-mission brief hadn't included the fact that the Whites were brother and sister, either. Cari wasn't particularly anxious to discover another gap in their intelligence.
A flash of hands to her left drew her gaze.
"Paulo says his fingers are smaller," Janice duly reported. "He wants to help."
Without waiting for a go-ahead, the boy reached into the pocket of his shorts and dug out a pocketknife. Flipping open the blade, he plunged into the river.
"No, wait!"
Cari's protest was lost in a loud splash. Paulo went under, bobbed up again a few yards away from the stern, and tossed his head to get the water out of his eyes. His mouth set, he paddled toward Mac and the half-submerged craft.
"He'll hurt himself," Cari said worriedly, trying to yank her hand free.
Dr. White kept it in a firm grasp. "The boy is remarkably handy with that knife. Perhaps he can help."
Turning a six-year-old armed with a rusty pocket-knife loose on a multimillion-dollar test vehicle wasn't Cari's idea of smart. Mac obviously shared her concerns. As Paulo shot underwater, the marine kicked up his boot heels and went after him.
Her cut bandaged, Cari was at the bank ready to dive in when Mac popped back up. Paulo followed a moment later. Raising a fist, he displayed a long, stringlike trophy.
Mac acknowledged his accomplishment with a grin. Reaching over, he knuckled the boy on the head. "Good job, kid."
An answering grin split Paulo's face. It only lasted a moment or two, but for those moments a smug, happy child replaced the sullen boy.
"Want to give it another shot?"
Nodding, Paulo tossed the stringy vine into the swirling current, jackknifed, and disappeared under the surface once again. Mac up-ended, scissor-kicked and followed. Still worried that the boy would hurt himself and/or her craft, Cari dived in as well.
It took a dozen more dives before they cleared the twin propellers of all foreign objects. By then Mac's chest heaved and Cari had to pull in deep, ragged breaths each time they surfaced. Paulo, on the other hand, appeared to have a child's inexhaustible source of energy. Popping in and out of the water like a playful seal pup, he swam circles around Cari and Mac as they prepared to board Pegasus.
"Better wait on the bank," Mac advised his young helper. "We need you and everyone else to stay clear while we fire up the engines."
If they fired them up, Cari thought grimly. Praying she hadn't stripped the gears or bent the blades when she plowed through the net, she grabbed an edge of the open cockpit to haul herself up. Mac planted a hand on her rear and gave her an added boost.
"Thanks," she drawled, scrambling over the edge.
With a flex of water-slick muscles, he pulled himself up after her. He looked like a pirate rising out of the sea to board a captured vessel, Cari thought. Dark bristles shadowed his cheeks and chin. Water sluiced down his bare chest. His mottled green-and-black pants hung low on his hips. All he needed was a cutlass thrust through his belt to complete the image. Forcing her gaze from that expanse of naked chest, she settled into her seat.
"We'd better advise Captain Westfall that we're going to attempt to power up. Why don't you take care of that while I run the preignition checklist?"
"Will do."
Cupping his hands, he called to Harry White to toss him his handheld radio. The instrument came sailing through the air. Moments later, Mac had a link to the navy captain.
They'd been providing Westfall periodic updates of their situation. He'd called in a Pavehawk helicopter as backup and was fully prepared to launch another expedition to extract both the Pegasus crew and their passengers. If she couldn't power up her craft, Cari thought, that's what it would come to.
Hating the thought of abandoning Pegasus deep in the Caribe jungle, she checked the gauge on the auxiliary power source. They had barely enough juice left for ignition. Once the engines were running, they could recharge the batteries and power up the navigational systems.
"Here goes," she muttered to Mac.
Her finger hovered over the auxiliary power switch for a moment before flicking it on. The gauge's needle shivered, whipped from red to green, danced back to yellow. When Cari pressed the switch to fire the starboard engine, the needle zinged into the red again.
"Come on, baby."
She lifted her thumb, pressed the switch again. The needle stayed glued to the red. Her stomach was tying itself into knots when the engine gave a low growl. Slowly, the props began to churn.
"Yes!"
The watchers on the bank sent up a round of shouts and cheers. Cari barely heard them as she quickly throttled the starboard engine to Neutral and hit the switch for the port side engine. The needle on the auxiliary power gauge jerked once, a pathetic little bob, then lay flat. But there was enough juice, just enough, to ignite the second engine.
The propellers began to turn, raising another chorus of whoops and cheers. This time Cari acknowledged them. Keeping a careful hand on the throttle, she waved wildly with the other. A wide grin split her face when she turned to Mac.
"Well, whaddya know! Looks like we might not have to leave Pegasus behind, after all."
"Looks like." His hazel eyes glinting, he keyed his radio. "Pegasus Base, this is Pegasus One. We've powered up both engines."
"That's good to hear, One."
Westfall didn't try to disguise his relief. This supersecret vehicle was his baby, his project, but he would have ordered Cari and Mac to abandon it in a heartbeat if faced with undue risk. Thankfully, that hadn't proved to be the case. So far.
"The engineers indicate it'll take ninety minutes to fully recharge the batteries and power up all systems," the captain advised. "How's your fuel?"
Cari gave Mac a thumbs-up.
"We should have enough to bring us home," he relayed.
"We'll be standing by," Westfall replied tersely. "Just in case."
The whole Pegasus team would be standing with him, Cari knew. Jill. Doc. Kate. Dave Scott. She could count on any or all of them to charge to the rescue.
That's what separated the military from civilian institutions, she acknowledged silently. This unspoken bond, this brotherhood of arms. She'd become part of that brotherhood the first time she'd raised her hand and sworn to protect and defend. After all these years, the military was in her blood. Had she really thought she could give it up? Did she have to give it up to have a family?
Her heart said no, but the stubborn little voice of practicality inside her head wanted to know just how
the heck she thought she could raise children and take off at a moment's notice on missions like this one. Shoving that question aside to be addressed later, Cari concentrated on the task at hand—recharging Pega-sus's batteries.
"You'd better tell the Whites we'll be ready to depart in ninety minutes," she said to Mac. "I'll watch the power levels and bring up our onboard systems one by one."
Nodding, Mac made the transition from ship to shore. After a brief consultation, the Whites decided to shepherd their charges back to the village to gather their few belongings and down a quick meal. Mac lifted the bright, chattering Rosa to her customary riding place on Reverend White's shoulders. Janice White took Miguel's hand firmly in hers to lead him along the narrow jungle path. Paulo carried a younger child piggyback and got another knuckle-rub from Mac as he passed. The boy hunched his shoulders and shied away, but bis scowl lacked some of its usual ferocity.
Since the show appeared to be pretty well over, the rest of the women and children trailed along after the Whites. Even the men brought their canoes to shore and made for the cluster of huts.
"We need to come up with a gift for the villagers," Mac said when he rejoined Cari in the open cockpit. "Something to thank them for their hospitality."
"I've been thinking about that, too. Pegasus is designed to carry troops or cargo pallets. There are several rolls of cargo webbing stowed in the rear compartment. The webbing is super-lightweight nylon and almost indestructible. A roll of that stuff would make an excellent replacement for the fishing net we chewed up."
"So it would. Good thinking, Dunn. I'll dig a roll out of the hold." He clambered out of his seat, but paused as an amber light began to blink on the instrument panel. "Is that the Marine Navigational System?"
"It is!"
With a quick jab of relief, Cari watched the MNS display screen come to life. The dull gray of the screen faded and was replaced by a digitized map of Caribe. A long,, squiggly line represented the Rio Verde. The amber dot, now a steady glow, indicated their current position.
Mac clapped a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Looks like we're back in business."
The Right Stuff Page 6