Then his words filtered through. What if the accident hadn't been a fluke? Why hadn't she considered that herself? This opened a whole new path for the investigation. Her mind sped through possibilities she couldn't wait to explore once they arrived back at base.
Except, he didn't intend for her to stay.
"You're serious? You really think I'm going to pull myself off the investigation team because someone may or may not be tampering with evidence? Maybe somebody wanted to spook us a little? The way I see it, that's all the more reason for me to press. I'm onto something."
"That's my whole point." Tanner advanced a step, jabbing the air with a finger. "You shouldn't be on to anything. We should be. We. The team. If you won't be a team player, then you're a liability to everyone else."
His words hurt more than any concussion. Apparently the name and the invitation to be his friend hadn't been genuine. He'd been trying to get her back to Charleston, with the side benefit of working his way into her bed.
And he'd almost succeeded, damn his too charming face. She wanted to bash him over the head with her Athena stick.
Anger whipped inside her to blunt the pain of betrayal. "You're one to talk about being a team player. You only want to play if you can be the captain. In charge. In control. Even sitting in the copilot seat, you've got to run the mission—forget that it's not your job. You're the one fixing things, like in your relationships. And on this whole investigation, you don't want to work with me any more than Andrew ever did. You want me to do it your way, on your schedule, by your rules. Well, I've got news for you, hotshot. You can't always run the show and still be a team player. Sometimes somebody else is in control."
Panting in the aftermath, she realized all she'd said. Some of it true, but some horribly harsh and unfair. Just as she started to backpedal, Tanner quirked a blond eyebrow.
"Are you through?"
Ice-flecked blue eyes stared back at her and Kathleen realized he was royally pissed. Not just miffed, or a little angry. Easygoing Tanner Bennett was full-out mad. At her.
She thought about apologizing, but the cold look in his eyes froze the words in her mouth. She settled for a quick nod.
"Good. Because so am I. I'm through trying to work with a woman who takes damn fool chances. I'm through trying to talk sense to you when you flat-out won't listen. And I'm sure as hell through fighting with you today because, unlike you, I happen to care about your health." He tapped his watch meaningfully. "I'm hauling butt out of here, O'Connell, and now that you know, consider me through talking today."
Kathleen blinked, more than once. She didn't deserve to shed the tears that burned her eyes. She'd taken a stupid risk and acted like a child, to boot. How could she blame him for not wanting to talk to her?
Unwilling to leave her present behind, she shook off the attack of self-pity and hustled back inside the mission before Tanner left without her.
She had a feeling this Christmas was going to be more than just a "Silent Night" kind of holiday. Tanner's cold shoulder threatened to extend into a full-blown silent day, night and freaking New Year.
And worse yet, she deserved it.
Chapter 13
Kathleen speared her fingers through her damp hair. A shower did wonders for restoring a person's spirits, especially when she had twenty-four hours' worth of sand, blood and pent-up emotions to wash away. A waterproof bandage over her stitches had enabled her to indulge in that much needed cleansing.
Her hour walk to the farmhouse earlier had been uneventful. Painfully so. Tanner's silence had heaped on the guilt, a silence he'd maintained through their trip to the E.R. and check-in with the base security police.
How long would it take for him to forgive her, if at all? She didn't have much practice in resolving arguments, another by-product of her solitary life. Even when her sisters had started with typical sibling battles, Kathleen had climbed her favorite tree. Once the winds of war had drifted away, she would catapult to the ground.
How odd that Tanner was the only one she argued with. More often, she opted for silence while she followed through on her own plan.
Kathleen went to her closet, thankful she'd left most of her belongings—extra clothes, her line badge, military orders—in her room at the Edwards Inn so she hadn't lost much in the explosion. She slipped into an overlong poet's shirt and black leggings. Her eyes gravitated to the dressing table, straight to the nutcracker necklace dangling from the mirror, her Athena spike propped beside it. She and Tanner had more than arguments and attraction between them now. Those two tokens carried far more memories and thoughtfulness than a hothouse full of roses.
The prospect of experiencing more such moments made her hungry to figure out how to make him forgive her.
Not so hungry, however, that she would compromise her work principles. She wasn't bowing out of the investigation, and Tanner could just get over himself on that one.
But their time alone together was running out. Kathleen didn't intend to waste it in a cold silence deadlock.
At the E.R. Tanner had been on full-tilt grumpy status, pacing the halls, scowling and looking so worried. She hadn't been able to stop herself from hoping that maybe the day, night, New Year wouldn't be a bust after all. Never an impetuous woman, she'd actually found herself asking the E.R. nurse for condoms. Just being a careful, responsible twenty-first-century woman, given how hot they'd been for each other.
Yeah, right. In her heart she knew better.
Waking up in Tanner's arms, she'd worried about being hurt. Now she wondered if there might be larger regrets in store for her if she'd didn't explore their crazy attraction.
Her fingers paused along the buttons. Had she been reverting to days of old, hiding in a tree?
Slowly she slid the top button open again and spritzed cologne in the vee.