Max rounded a coral reef into the secluded cove where he moored his boat. A cove that should have been deserted. Except his own mermaid siren waited to lure him in.
Lounging on a sandbar a few yards from shore, Darcy sat with her chin on her knees, soaking up the muted sun as storm clouds billowed overhead. Miles of leg stretched from her one-piece black swimsuit. Not one of those decorative scraps of Lycra, but a suit designed more for practicality than enticement. Somehow the subtler invitation tempted him all the more.
And of course there were those dog tags nestled between her breasts.
Max cut the engine power and coasted toward the dock. He tied the boat off, all the while conscious of her eyes on his every move.
Darcy cupped a hand to her mouth. "Ten bucks says you can't name all the kids from the Brady Bunch, in order."
After a too-damned long, frustrating day, he didn't have the energy or will to resist her. Max pitched the anchor overboard. "Actors or their television character names?''
"Characters."
"Too easy." He jumped into the shallow surf and waded toward her, waves lapping his waist. "I wouldn't feel right taking the hard-earned money of a government employee."
"You're too nice."
"Hardly." He closed in on her, stepping up onto the sandbar. "I thought you were flying today."
"We landed early."
Early? Max dropped to sit beside her, instincts itching overtime like the sand coating his legs. "Nothing wrong with the mission, I hope."
"Nope. Picture perfect." Her arm draped over her knees, she drew circles in the sand with exaggerated concentration. "We landed and off-loaded supplies in twenty minutes. Never even shut down engines before it was time to clear the ramp for the next formation of planes."
With bitten fingernails that made him wonder and even worry, she continued to sketch in the sand until her canvas of circles expanded as wide as her silence.
Something wasn't right. Like her missing smile. The edginess in a normally indomitable woman. What was she doing here? "So you decided to sunbathe."
Darcy snorted inelegantly. "I'm not exactly the sun goddess type. I just like to swim. When Dad was a squadron commander here in Guam, my sister, brother and I all but lived in the water. Snorkeling. Scuba. We loved to explore the underwater wreckages of the planes and boats."
Where was she going with this? He might not know, but he would hang on for the ride long enough to wipe away whatever had brought the pucker of worry between her brows. "Being stationed in Charleston near the beach works well for you then."
"I fly a lot. That limits how often I can dive with the twenty-four-hour restriction before and after a flight because of the whole issue of nitrogen in the bloodstream."
Max nodded. The extreme changes in pressure caused nitrogen bubbles to gather in the bloodstream. It only took one nitrogen bubble to the heart for things to turn deadly.
There was a lesson in that, no doubt. Their very different worlds of air and water weren't meant to coexist any more than he and Darcy.
Darcy abandoned her sand doodles. "You've probably guessed I didn't just happen to be here coincidentally today."
"Why are you here?" He readied himself for anything from a woman who had an uncanny knack for leveling him.
"I want to apologize."
Well, hell. A knockout before the first round. And what a knockout she was without even trying. "Apologize for what?"
"For making things awkward." She drew her knees in tight, the wind whipping her cinnamon-brown hair around her face as she rested her chin on her folded hands. The storm brewing in the skies echoed the one in her eyes.
"There's nothing to apol—"
"Please, stop. This is embarrassing enough, but I need to say it." The red burning her cheeks had nothing to do with the sun. "I'm not good at this kind of thing. I'm even worse at talking about it."
Max prayed she'd get the hell off the subject of kissing, fast, which led too easily to thoughts of laying Darcy back on that sandbar and investigating her tan lines.>Crusty was a blast to crew with, fun and edgy in the air, likely a holdover from his test-pilot days. He knew just how far to push performance boundaries for his craft. Like a kid gripping a joystick, he guided the C-17 in a soaring low-level approach that rippled the surf. Transparent water revealed the wreckage of a Japanese freighter below.
Crusty circled around a cove, a speedboat easing into sight. "Well, lookie there." The boat bobbed as a diver hauled himself up the back ladder. Sun glinted off the water as the diver combed his hand through his spiky hair.
"Three guesses as to who that is." Crusty shot Darcy a piercing, curious look. "Hey, you remember the dolphin dude, don't you?"