Private Maneuvers (Wingmen Warriors 4)

What was it about this woman that turned near-innocent moves into a siren song?

Darcy continued the featherlight torment over the scar on his arm, tracing up into the edge of his sleeve. "What's life worth if we always play it safe?"

He grabbed her wrist. "That doesn't mean you should be reckless."

"Some risks are worth taking." Her eyes glinted with determination—and an underlying vulnerability that rocked him more than confronting armed divers guarding the drug runner's sub in South America.

Max knew what was coming long before her gaze dropped to his mouth. Knew he should stop her. Instead he held her wrist and stared back.

She kissed him, and heaven help him he didn't pull away.

Their eyes stayed open as he devoured her with his gaze, instead of an open mouth. A damned stupid thing to do, but how could he have known this simple act of trust from her would arouse him as much as if he'd kissed her the way his body begged him?

Darcy's mouth softened beneath his. Her pupils widened in a message of arousal that matched his own, just before her lashes fluttered close. Those generous lips of hers parted in an invitation he didn't stand a chance in hell of turning down.

The tide roared in his ears, giving him only a half second to realize a dolphin was approaching with a—

Splash.

Water sluiced over them in a lukewarm shower. Not nearly cold enough.

Darcy jerked back with a squeal. Max sat up, swiping the drops from his eyes.

Then regretted the move. Blurred vision proved much safer than a clear view of the goddess in a wet T-shirt sitting no less than twelve inches away. Soaked cotton molded to every curve and peak of her breasts, and man, had she ever hidden some generous curves beneath that flight suit.

Max cleared his throat, if not his thoughts, and hooked an elbow over his knee. "We shouldn't have done that."

"Why?" She trailed her fingers along his jaw in a gentle invitation. "I already want to do it again."

He scrambled for a face-saving out for her. "I'm not interested in starting something I don't stand a chance of finishing. We live on opposite coasts. I'll be here for weeks. You're going to leave in a couple of days."

Darcy's brow scrunched into that "I'm checking you out'' frown, the one that made her bottom lip full and tempting. As if it needed any help. "What makes you think I'm leaving in two days?"

Uh-oh.

"Another day of cr—" He stopped himself cold before he slipped up and used the phrase "crew rest," military jargon a biology professor had no business knowing. Damn, but she had him too rattled. "Another day for your crew to rest up and then you're back to the States."

"Usually, yeah. But because of that earthquake in Taiwan, we're staying in Guam on stand-by to fly in relief supplies and bulldozers." Absently she plucked at her wet shirt, showcasing mermaid curves. "I'll be here for three weeks."

Foreboding mingled with an edgy thrill, and finally with a ragged fear. This was about more than turning away a woman who was wrong for him. About more than protecting her from tangling her life with a man who wanted nothing from a relationship except sex.

This was about keeping her well away from a situation that could turn deadly in a heartbeat.

Resisting Darcy for a couple of days was tough enough. Resisting those mermaid curves and siren eyes for three weeks straight would be damned near impossible.

And if he screwed up this mission, she could be the one to pay. A hell he vowed never to visit again.

Chapter 4

Robin flicked a spider off the crumbling World War II-era bunker and took a front row seat on the cement box for the lovelorn scenario unfolding on the beach below with Max and his lady pilot. No need to hide in the brush. Lurking would only look suspicious.

/ have as much right to watch the sunset as they do.

Robin traced the slits along the camouflaged bunker, stroking the tiny openings for guns in battle like a talisman. Robin inched closer. Sure Max would be irritated if he saw his audience of one, since he'd demanded the beach stay clear. But he'd just have to get over it. Keeping track of Max's every move was essential.

Boring. But essential.

The jungle edged right up to the shoreline. Historic invasions had occurred here, the perfect site for a modern-day battle if only Max would look up and wonder. Just a hundred or so yards separated them, not far at all if Max were focusing on anything other than the woman with him. Interesting.