Private Maneuvers (Wingmen Warriors 4)

Fifteen.

She would not disgrace herself by tossing her supper on this guy's Teva sandals. With her luck today, the flyers would all pour back out into the hall, and she'd be stuck with a call sign like "Ralph" for the rest of her career.

"Okay, then. I'll let you get some sleep." Max stood. "But remember. Call if you need anything."

"Just listen for the warning shots in the air, Gunsmoke style."

Laughing softly, he pulled the door shut behind him. Leaving her alone with the rumpled bed and memories of fangs sinking into her flesh.

Darcy pressed a hand to her churning stomach and sprinted for the bathroom. Later she would ask Max why a marine biologist had been carrying a Glock 29 when he'd kicked his way into her room.

* * *

Standing on the deserted walkway outside Darcy's VOQ room, Max adjusted his Glock in the waist harness under his windbreaker and wondered what he was missing. She seemed her normal tough-as-nails self, taking the snakebite in stride. A slightly limping stride, sure, but better than ninety-nine percent of the world would have handled an attack from a ten-foot reptile.

Still, something didn't sit right about the way she'd shuffled him out. The shadows under her eyes hinted at more than exhaustion. He would know. He lived in those shadows himself.

He should leave before someone came out to find him hanging around her door. And he would go, as soon as he heard the new dead bolt click.

Two interminable minutes later, it still hadn't slid into place. Didn't the woman have any safety sense?

Max rapped his knuckles on the frame twice. "Darcy, I think my, uh—" he scrambled "—zinc oxide fell out of my pocket."

Smooth line, slick. No wonder she didn't answer. He tapped again. The door creaked open. "Darcy?"

He scanned the empty room.

"Over here."

Max followed her voice across the room...and down to the bathroom floor. Damn it, he should have trusted his instincts earlier and never left.

She slumped back against the wall, her knees drawn to her chest. Pale but upright, she reached to flush. "Shut the door, please. I really don't want anyone else seeing me like this."

"You got it." Max closed the door before crossing to Darcy. Stepping over her, he snagged a washrag from the rack and soaked it with cold water. Darcy thrust her hand up. Max passed the rag down as he dropped beside her on the cool tile. "Do you need anything?"

Darcy mopped the cloth over her brow. "A new day would be nice."

"How about I get someone to stay with you?"

"No!" She swiped the rag over her eyes. "No. Just what I need, Crusty waving a bologna sandwich under my nose to make all my troubles go away." She shuddered. "I'd never live it down. It's tough enough proving myself to these guys as it is."

"What about one of the other women?''

"No. I don't want anyone here." Darcy shot him a pointed look. "Anyone. I've had a really sucky day. So please find your zinc oxide and leave."

Hiking up onto her knees, Darcy grabbed the toothpaste from the sink. She fell back on her bottom. She squirted a stream of mint gel on her finger and swiped it across her teeth, all the while carefully avoiding looking at him.

Max clasped his hands loosely between his knees. "There's nothing wrong with being rattled by what went down here."

Darcy pitched the toothpaste in the sink. "If you're thinking about rolling out a story of how you once ralphed after facing a shark, don't bother. It won't make me feel any less embarrassed."

In spite of her bravado, he figured she could do without his Mako shark story, or the jagged reminder on his hip. And he could never tell her the top-secret details about how he'd received the scar on his shoulder.

Max pointed to two pin-size scars on his calf instead. "Actually, it was a sea snake, the first time I came to Guam. Just a juvenile one." Lucky for him since an adult sea snake could open its jaw wide enough to span a table. Max exhaled long and slow. "I don't care how long you've been working in the water, those are scary mothers. Damned thing got ahold of my leg and wouldn't let go."

His muscles had stiffened up within a half hour, his jaw locking. He'd have died without the antivenom, but she didn't need that much detail. "There's nothing wrong with being scared into worshipping the porcelain god over there as long as you don't let the fear immobilize you when it counts."

"That's not my point." She stopped, bit her lip, shook her head before continuing, "I shouldn't expect you would understand about my job. We're just from two different walks of life." She nudged his foot with hers. "But then I guess the different-worlds part is a lot of what I enjoy about you, Dr. Maxwell Keagan."