Private Maneuvers (Wingmen Warriors 4)

Maybe they should talk afterward, when she was safe at home in Charleston and he'd put the whole investigation to rest. If only that nagging voice in his head didn't keep insisting he was screwing up by not settling things between them now.

Friend.

He rued the day he'd used that word with her. She was killing him with friendship, treating him like one of her crewdog buds, taunting him with how very much was lacking and how much more they'd had before.

Crusty creaked back in his chair. "Why not let her spend a few days looking through mug shots until she returns to flying status? She might actually come up with something."

Max grunted.

"Too bad you were so hell-bent on the he-man 'little woman go home' tactics." Baker rattled the bag of seeds, digging for another handful. "If you'd just let her do her part, this could have been so much more pleasant. She can't leave until she's cleared by the flight surgeon, anyway. She has her old man watching over her 24/7 like a rotweiller."

Max ignored the pinch of guilt. He'd done the right thing to keep Darcy safe. The general had a grade-A warrior spirit, the kind that would teach his daughter real survival skills and keep her alive. General Renshaw's mindset seemed to go beyond just bloodying a kid's nose with kung fu crap to teach him that surfing was for bums.

Of course, Max had made sure his old man met the mat before heading out to catch the next wave.

Damn. He didn't need the past crowding his brain. A waste of brain cells and energy, anyway. Max scooped the sunflower seeds from Crusty's hands and started pitching them into his mouth. He crunched and paced. "It's not Vinnie."

"I know."

He almost hated having his gut instinct confirmed. "I've already sent in my recommendation we dismantle the tap. Screw the whole disinformation idea. This is bigger than that. Someone's playing us."

"And that someone's getting reckless."

Max dropped into the vacant office chair across from Crusty. "All the more reason to play it cool. Make like we're content until we have control of the situation." He worked the chair in a lazy half spin from side to side, the spartan government chair squeaking. "The last thing I want is whoever the hell's behind this getting fired up."

"Okay, run with that thought. Let's bounce some ideas back and forth." Crusty waggled his hands. "Brainstorm with me, partner."

Partner? Max paused midcrack.

Brainstorming? Him? What the hell was that all about? More of Darcy's socialization plan. Max stared at her across the rows of steel desks. Intent and focused, she cocked her head to the side to study one photo closer, then waved for the next picture.

She hadn't spared a glance his way, other than another one of her overbright "buddy'' smiles when he and Crusty had stepped into the office. She'd nodded politely, of course, then looked away.>Not that it made her feel any better at the moment. Just hollow. Tired.

Darcy forked a hand through her tangled mess of hair. She didn't even bother asking how he'd wrangled past the guards. Apparently, this man made his own rules, which didn't include respecting her wishes.

The two-faced rat bastard had used her confidences about her father against her. She wanted Max out of her room, before she did something ridiculous like ask him to hold her until the nightmares faded. "Visiting hours are over."

He didn't budge, just continued to pin her with those sea-green eyes shifting with more depths than even she'd imagined. She'd only just begun to figure the guy out, and now he'd changed the picture all over again.

Max folded his hands over his stomach, looking so much like the man who'd waited in her room after the snake attack a few short weeks ago. But that man had been an illusion.

"Well, Max?"

"I thought you might need me after what happened, in case it stirred up bad memories from the past."

Of the tree snake?

Then she realized he meant the kidnapping twelve years ago. The past. Of course he knew everything about her from his CIA briefings. Betrayal blazed over her with a fresh vengeance. She'd never stood a chance against him, not when he knew all her secrets, every button to push to wrap her mind so totally around wanting him.

She accepted a certain loss of privacy that came with signing away her life to the military and all the necessary security clearances that entailed. But right now she wasn't feeling reasonable. She felt damned n**ed and exposed to a man who'd kept everything about himself hidden.

Darcy lashed out with the first line of defense that came to mind. "I needed you on the beach yesterday, but you didn't seem to care much about that then, secret-agent man."

He swung his leg from the side of the chair, both elbows on his knees. "You have good reason to be pissed at me."

Damn him and his sympathetic eyes.

"Doesn't take a Scooby Doo sleuth to figure that one out, Doc."