The Captive's Return (Wingmen Warriors 10)

Lucas snatched his M9 off the bedside table and sprinted for the hall, the pounding outside echoing through the apartment. He ran smack into Sara dashing from Lucia's room.

"Back inside. Keep the door shut and stay away from the windows." He gripped her shoulders, spinning her away and into the bedroom, trying like hell not to think about how delicate her bones felt under his hands.

He struggled to come to grips with the airy Sara he'd known before and the woman who'd knifed him outside the compound with a strength that defied her size. "Stay behind the bed. Don't come out until I tell you all's clear."

He regretted his brusque tones, but she seemed to understand there wasn't time for niceties. Best of all she seemed to realize the importance of watching over Lucia. The woman who'd drawn a knife in defense of her daughter had returned and damn, she was mesmerizing.

Shaking his head clear, he ducked into the living room where Keagan, Rodriquez and two other agents were positioned around the perimeter, out of the direct line of fire of the entrance.

Rodriquez stood to the left of the door, weapon drawn. "Si?" he called through the door.

"Jorge?" a muffled female voice gasped. "His dentist appointment. How did it go?"

Recognition clicked a second ahead of relief. Lucas bolted around the sofa. "It's Seabrook, my missing pilot. Let her in."

Rodriquez opened the door to reveal that yes, Seabrook stood outside, whole and seemingly unharmed in spite of the mud, scratches, bug bites.>Yes, a thousand reasons.

Like checking on Lucia.

Sara bolted upright in bed. What kind of mother was she? She jerked to look at the clock. She'd actually only been away from her daughter for five and a half hours total, with Lucas checking on her and likely with her now, but guilt still stung. She wasn't used to sharing parenting responsibilities.

Springing to her feet, she yanked on her borrowed clothes—jogging shorts, a loose T-shirt and flip-flops. She reached for the door just as the knob twisted. Stumbling back, she grabbed a chair for balance.

Lucas filled the doorway as he angled in with a tray of food. Ohhh, how sweet. He'd been making breakfast for her, not forgetting about her after all. His thoughtfulness, his understanding of her needs as a mother— as well as a woman—tugged at her heart, blowing away any lingering upset over waking alone.

Where had her objectivity gone?

Or perhaps it wasn't gone. Perhaps she was thinking clearly for the first time. She wanted him, and not just for one night. "You're forgiven."

"Glad to hear it." He set the tray on the bedside table, stopping inches from her, intimately close without touching. His eyes, however, held her totally. "For which offense?"

"For not being here when I woke."

A hint of a smile played with his mouth before he plucked a rolled tortilla from the tray. "I figured you would be hungry and I wanted to check on Lucia."

"And?"

He tapped the tortilla against her mouth until she opened, bit, cheese melting over her wide-awake senses that craved a kiss more than food.

"Lucia's still asleep. The doctor will stop by in about two hours after his hospital rounds." He fed her another bite before popping the rest into his mouth, the sharing of food nearly as intimate as sharing each other's bodies.

The bed called to her, and from the hard length of him pressed to her stomach, it likely called to him, as well. But she needed to see her child. Would he understand? "Is it okay with you if we eat in her room while she sleeps?"

"I'm one jump ahead of you." Backing away, he nodded toward the door. "A pitcher of juice is already by her bed, and Keagan has debrief questions he wants to ask if you're feeling up to it."

Real-world concerns intruded, but she knew better than to mourn the loss. "Of course I want to offer whatever help I can." Speaking of real-world concerns. "I, uh, need to check my blood sugar and take my insulin shot first."

How strange to feel shy about that after everything else they'd done together. Shuffling aside the strange unease, she pricked her finger for a reading, then reached for the fresh supply of insulin the doctor had given her the night before.

"Do you want me to step out?"

Si. "No."

She did, however, turn her back to him as she filled the syringe, inched her shorts waistband down and slid the needle under her skin, too aware of Lucas watching. She shook off the uneasy sensation. Discarding the empty syringe, she reminded herself she needed a clear mind before speaking with the agent. Lucas hadn't believed her at first about her time in the compound. His friend Max Keagan had even less reason to trust her. Shards of uncertainty, fear even, prickled.

As she started for the door, Lucas flattened his hand to the panel. "Sara?"

"What?"