Under Siege (Wingmen Warriors 3)

As far as a Valentine's memory, it definitely beat some moonlit carriage ride. Zach's choice showed how well he knew her and that touched her most of all.

And it was the only Valentine's season they would celebrate together, the ride likely to be the only excitement they could share.

The night air chilled.

Back to the reality of Pam's return and what it would mean for the fragile peace they'd built. "Why are we stopping here?"

"I need something before we go home." Palm flat against her back, he ushered her toward the door.

Couldn't the man put work on hold for even a few hours?

Her heels clicked double-time along asphalt. "Slow down, will you? These heels are tough to run in for a girl used to sandals and gym shoes."

How could he be in such a hurry to reach his office when all she could think about was the great sex they could have been having?

"Sorry." He punched in a code and stepped into the squadron, flipping on a hall light.

She hugged the coat tighter around her in the nippy corridor and followed him into his office. Fluorescent lights flickered.

The lock clicked.

Before Julia could think, much less protest, Zach twirled her by the arm. He flattened her back against the door. He kissed her, hard, fast and full. Reasonable thoughts fell away as fast as the leather jacket he tugged from her arms and flung to the floor.

"I swear, Jules," he mumbled against her mouth, her cheek, her neck. "That was the longest damned party of my life."

Hers too. Heat poured from his lips over her skin, pulsing through her veins into a pool of longing, low and needy. Saying no was tougher than she'd expected. Why hadn't she pressed him to talk more in the car so they could move past Pam's return?

"Zach, wait." Gripping the lapels of his uniform, she scrambled for control. "I thought you needed to get something before we go home."

"No. I said I needed something. You. Now. Where no one will interrupt us."

His mouth returned to hers with a mind-drugging draw that threatened to steal her focus.

Much more and she wouldn't stand a chance of stopping him. Or herself. "Zach. Zach!

Please. I need to say something."

His forehead thunked to the door. "You've changed your mind."

"No! Yes. Not really." She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. Her eyes swept the room as she grounded herself with visions of concrete objects, a looming wooden desk, flags tucked in the corner, framed certificates and photos of planes filling the walls. "I know what I said earlier on the phone, but—''

Zach pushed away from the door, away from Julia, and walked to his desk. Keeping his back to her, he straightened a stack of files. "Indecision is the same as a no, Jules."

"I'm not saying no for me. I'm saying it for you."

"For me?" He shot an incredulous look over his shoulder, then turned to sit on the edge of his desk. "Want to explain that one? Because I'm certain I want us both already naked."

His words hummed through her, not unlike the hydroplaning sensation of the bridge ride.

Gathering her thoughts proved tougher than she expected with Zach's piercing gaze probing her as she walked.

She paused by the flags, fingering the coarse canvas. Tucked away in a closet, she'd saved a folded flag just like this one for Patrick, the flag that had draped his father's coffin before being presented to her. Still, she could hear the roar of the planes flying a missing man formation overhead, the reverberation of a twenty-one-gun salute.

For the first time in over a year, she allowed those funeral memories to march through her mind and found she could face them now without falling apart. Thanks to Zach. "A month ago, you told me you wouldn't share your bed with a ghost. Well, I'm telling you the same thing. You need to sort through your feelings for Pam first."

Never again would she share her husband with another woman.

"Pam?" His arms folded over his chest. "In case it escaped your attention, neither of us died. She and I are divorced."