Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors #5)

Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors #5) Page 4

"We are talking." Her spine pulled straighter—which exposed a tempting patch of graceful neck.

He nodded toward his brothers. "Away from them so they can't read your body language. I need to know more about what happened in Rubistan if I'm going to keep them safe."

Tension rippled through her.

He resisted the urge to stroke her arm, cup her shoulder and pull her to him. Worse than wanting to palm her breast, he wanted Mary Elise to fling her arms around his neck like so many times before.

Damn, he'd missed her. Missed their easy friendship. No surprise he'd screwed it up. A slew of failed relationships since with casserole-cooking and uniform-ironing women hammered home his shortcomings in the relationship department. The latest to walk had deemed him "emotionally unavailable."

Whatever the hell that meant.

Sure, he was sorry when each relationship self-destructed. But not one of them had left a hole in his life. Except Mary Elise.

His grip tightened as if he could somehow reinvent the past by holding tighter. She winced.

He raised his hands, backing away. "Sorry."

For so many damned things he wouldn't do any differently now. Emotionally unavailable worked well for him.

"Let me get the boys settled, Danny. We can talk once they're asleep."

At least she didn't argue or pretend they could ignore the fact that she stood in his plane in place of the boys' nanny from Florida.

He didn't know why she was here. Didn't know why it mattered so damned much to him. But he did owe her. "Thanks for getting them out of there."

"I'd do it for anyone."

Yes, she would. But she hadn't done it for anyone. She'd done it for him. And just as when she'd passed him that Ho-Ho twenty-two years ago, he couldn't walk away.

Mary Elise sagged into the seat across from the two crew bunks in the Spartan sleeping cubicle behind the cockpit. Trey tangled in the covers on the top, slack-jawed with exhaustion. On the bottom, Austin clutched his ragged sailboat quilt, sucking on a corner as if he could somehow taste home.

How much would the little guy remember of the ordeal, the crate, the escape?Would he remember his parents?

Franklin Baker hadn't been the best of fathers to Daniel, but he'd been trying to compensate with Trey and Austin. Their mother may have been a dim bulb, but she'd loved her boys. They'd loved her.

Trey and Austin had been shuffled so much in their short lives—born in the States, moving a couple of years ago, now back again. And the turmoil wasn't over yet. A new home. A guardian they didn't even know.

Their brother.

Danny.

The mammoth aircraft seemed to shrink, the gray beams and bolts closing in on her. Such a large plane shouldn't feel so very small, nowhere to turn without bumping into him. They must be plowing through the most turbulent stretch of airspace in the sky. One more pitch against Daniel's rock-solid chest and she would lose her mind.

Toying with her earring, she untangled threads of hair from the hoop. He should not have the ability to unsettle her so much. She wanted to exchange a nostalgic smile and hug while they both acknowledged their lives had moved on for the best.

Except she hadn't. What about him?

A tingle started up her spine. She could feel him, standing behind her. Danny. Mary Elise glanced up and over her shoulder, already accepting she would find him.

Not Danny, but rather the stranger, Daniel, lounged in the doorway, rumpled flight suit making her long to swipe her hands over the wrinkles.

The muscles.

Silently he stared back at her. No doubt churning the whole mess around in his analytical brain, searching for a way to make sense of it all. Then, opting to cover his confusion with a joke.

She didn't want that joke. She wanted a piece of the past to replace the awkwardness. "Remember the time you painted your face, and decked out in cammo to see if you could break into the Savannah River Site plant?"

The C-17 droned for what seemed like an hour, probably closer to seconds, before a slow smile dimpled Danny's cheeks. He canted closer to be heard over the plane's roar, the privacy curtain swaying closed behind him. "Well, hell, Mary Elise, I was doing a public service. Anyplace constructing and testing the parts for nukes needed to have stronger security if a twelve-year-old could bust inside."

"No respect for danger, ever." Her eyes fell to rest on the children, checking the steady rise and fall of their chests, any snuffling breaths masked by the rumble of engines vibrating the plane. With each exhalation she thanked God for their sturdy little bodies, so resilient.

Five miscarriages had taught her well how fragile young life could be.

Although, Danny had seemed to possess a godlike invincibility in his youth. Or perhaps that had more to do with how he'd never groused over a tagalong tired of tiptoeing so as not to disrupt her bed-bound mother. "You wouldn't have been caught if I hadn't snuck along."

"You always did worry too much." His shoulders filled the portal and her eyes.

Mary Elise welcomed the escape into happier times with smaller childhood worries. "You could have left me behind when the alarm went off. I wouldn't have ratted you out."

"Which is why I couldn't leave you."

But he had. Eventually. After her miscarriage, she'd seen the caged look in his eyes, the need to run once he was free of obligations. She hadn't expected they would still get married—right away. She understood his need to finish school. But she had expected something more from him after all the times they'd made love following her pregnancy test. They'd moved past being friends, she'd thought. His need to escape her had hurt.

She'd hurt him right back. God, had she ever let her temper have its way with her as she'd sent him away.

Life had since taught her to contain more volatile emotions. "You always did have a soft spot for causes."

One hint of what waited for her back in Savannah and he would grease up in cammo to take on her ex in some commando raid. All the more reason to park her butt back in Rubistan. She'd quickly discovered how little help the police could be against Kent with his wealth and power. Even her parents hadn't believed her, instead buying into Kent's less messy explanation of postpartum depression.

The icy press of an assassin's gun to her temple had not been a delusion. Only quick reflexes and an escape to Rubistan had saved her life.

Danny sank into the seat beside her. "I assume you were the one who nudged the economic attaché to call me."

His firm thigh molded to hers. She nodded, swallowed. "Uh-huh."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." She pushed the words free from her cotton mouth.

He stretched his leg in front of him, rubbing a too long caress against her. "How the hell did you end up in that box in place of the nanny? Or are you their new nanny?"

She suppressed the urge to inch away. Not that she could go anywhere without slamming the wall. "I work at the embassy school, teaching English. I'm just close to the boys since they attend the school."

"How did you go from being editor of a newspaper in Savannah to teaching in Rubistan?"

"Excuse me?" she bristled. "I don't consider it a step down, thank you very much."

He elbowed her gently. "Cool your jets, 'Lise, I was talking basic geography."

She measured her words. "I wanted a change of scenery. Your father helped."

"My father." Muscles bunched visibly under the creased flight suit.

He'd never allowed himself to vent or rant, always taking on everyone else's battles and ignoring his own. Who would be there to help him through the grief over his father's death?

The Kathleen person he'd called for?

She couldn't begrudge him that. Especially when the boys would need a woman's influence more than ever. They also needed their brother steady. Daniel's hero worship for his father had died in a rift they'd never bridged, which would only make the coming weeks tougher for him.

Mary Elise let herself touch him. Just his arm. Lightly. "I'm so sorry."

He didn't answer for an extended moment before he stood to leave, pulling away emotionally as well as physically. As she'd known he would. He had always been more at ease with simple. Uncomplicated.

Daniel paused in the doorway. "I'll take you up front to patch through a call."

She struggled to understand his words in the wake of the liquid heat pulsing through her veins. "Patch a call?"

"Home."

She frowned. "My apartment's empty right now."

"I meant Savannah, I don't have your parents' number or I'd do it for you. Unless there's someone else you'd prefer to contact." His eyes chilled. "Like your husband."

"My ex-husband."

"Right." His emotionless gaze pinned her. "Do you want me to call Kent McRae?"

Hearing her ex-husband's name sent a tremor through her. Followed by a completely different shiver over realizing Daniel had cared enough to track her transition from Mary Elise Fitzgerald to Mary Elise McRae. From a single college journalism student to the wife of a major newspaper publisher.

And who was she now?

Alive. Just how she damn well intended to stay. "I'm not planning to go home. I'll turn right around and return to Rubistan and my job."

"Think again." Familiar chocolate-brown eyes hardened into the different, darker Danny.

What in the world had he seen and experienced during their years apart? "Excuse me?"

"We may have escaped Rubistan without being searched. But they knew. Once you and the boys come up missing at the same time, it won't take longer than a puff on that guard's cigar to link you to this. If you go back, you'll be jailed—or dead—an hour after you touch down."

All those thousands of emotional paper cuts flamed to life in full-blown dread. The implications of the past hours swelled into certainty. She hated the helplessness. Most of all hated that she would have to turn to Danny for answers after a year of hoping never to need anyone again. "What happens after we land in Charleston?"

"What kind of ID do you have?"

"I didn't have time to grab my purse before I got in the crate," she answered automatically, pushing the words through numb lips. "But I always keep my passport on me."

"Good, then you'll be processed through the base. In the meantime, you have to stay somewhere. With your parents or me?" Daniel leaned closer, bay rum obliterating hydraulic fluid in a sensory tidal wave. "It's your call to make, and quite frankly, I need you more right now."

Chapter 3

"You need me?" Mary Elise enunciated slowly.

Daniel watched her brows pull together over confused green eyes. He wasn't feeling much steadier himself.He braced a hand against the bulkhead and planted both boots for balance. Where the hell had his words come from?

There were probably a hundred different services he could call to help at a moment's notice. He knew at least a dozen women who would enjoy nothing more than mothering the boys as a way to entice him into being "emotionally available."

And none of them were Mary Elise.

He tried to tell himself his motives for keeping her close were rooted in protectiveness. That long-ago connection had kicked into overdrive in the past few minutes. Right about the time he'd mentioned calling Savannah.

He didn't consider himself an intuitive guy, a fact reinforced by his double-digit tally of breakups. But even he could sense something was wrong here. Her edginess should be easing with every mile they put between themselves and Rubistan.

Should be.

But wasn't.

Eleven years of distance between them didn't matter. He owed this woman, and until her frown smoothed, he wouldn't back off.

He was doing this for her. And for the boys. Not because he wanted to find out if the freckles dotting her smooth creamy skin had faded with age. "I need your help with stuff like asthma meds and nut allergies. At this rate, the boys won't make it through the week with me."