Explosive Alliance (Wingmen Warriors 9)

Could she bluff her way out by pretending she didn't know him? Except she'd never been a good liar, unlike her husband. "I remember you. It was a...memorable...time, Lieutenant Rokowsky."

"It's 'Captain' now."

Had that much time passed since Kurt's arrest and death soon after? Nearly twelve months. Why was this man here?

Kirstie clung to Paige's leg, silent and trembling. Her little girl who used to turn fearless cartwheels now approached the world with more wary feet.

Hugging an arm around Kirstie, Paige wrapped her in as much security as possible. She couldn't imagine this man would deliberately hurt a child. But even an unwitting mention of Kurt left Kirstie searching for hives on her legs, convinced she'd contracted a deadly disease that would require an injection.

"That was quite a show your crew put on, Captain."

"Show? Oh, you mean the sirens."

"And the sprint."

"We flew into a flock of birds, took one in an engine and had to call for an emergency landing."

"So that wasn't a performance for our benefit?"

"Afraid not."

Why wasn't he leaving? Working? What did he want from her? "Don't you need to do... something after a landing that frightening?"

"Stuff like that happens in the air—birds, engine fires, rapid decompressions. All in a day's work." His fingers flexed inside his flight gloves. "At least nobody's shooting at us."

She winced at images of Kurt's arrest the night he'd held this man and another family hostage in hopes of finding a ticket out of the country.

"I meant in a war zone," he amended gently.

She tried to smile. And failed. "Oh."

He stepped closer. Man and musk and a masculine protectiveness emanated from him, wobbling her knees.

Bo brushed her elbow. "How are you?"

>Her other hand held firm to the sticky softness of her baby girl's fingers, not so little now.

All of six years and nine months, Kirstie proclaimed often enough.

Too young to have hurt so much.

Paige swallowed back bilious memories stirred by the sirens. She wanted to leave. She'd seen enough destruction in her life, thanks to her traitorous bastard husband. But her brother had dropped her off on his way into Minot to restock veterinary supplies, leaving her landlocked at the base for at least another half hour.

The plane jerked to a stop. Seconds later the side hatch dropped open, stairs lowering.

The gaping portal filled with flight-suit-clad men pouring out and down the steps. They sprinted away from the craft while the fire trucks swarmed around.

An emergency? Or a part of the air-show events? Surely the crowd would be cleared for a problem with the plane. And not just any plane, but a C-17 from her old hometown. The tail art glinted, afternoon sun showcasing a blue palm tree and half-moon resembling the South Carolina state flag. No matter how far she ran, apparently her past dogged her heels.

Her fingers squeezed protectively around Kirstie's until her daughter squeaked, "Ouch, Mama, you're crunching my hand."

"Sorry, punkin seed." She smiled down, the late-spring sun beaming welcome warmth after a cold Dakota winter, bitter in more ways than one. "I guess I was caught up in the action."

"Those men don't look like they got hurt. So how come there's that amb'lence? Is there a doctor inside? Are they gonna get a shot?" Somber brown eyes peered up from behind Coke-bottle-thick glasses. "I don't like shots much."

Her daughter didn't like doctors, either, suffering a heartbreaking fear of illness and death since her father's murder in prison. Paige's heart pinched. She would do anything to bring back her daughter's smile.

Even face demons from her past by coming to an Air Force base.