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Private Maneuvers (Wingmen Warriors 4)

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Double damn and dirt. They would razz the hell out of her all the way across the Pacific.

She willed herself not to blush. Salvaging what she could of her pride and professionalism, Darcy pulled to attention. "Dr. Keagan, a pleasure to meet you."

Pleasure? She stifled a groan at her word choice.

Bronco snorted.

Forget salvaging squat. She turned on her boot heel toward the aircraft commander. "With all due respect, sir, I'm going to roll you off the load ramp right after we cross into international airspace."

She faced Max Keagan again, unable to read anything on the man's tanned—gorgeous—face. "I apologize for him and for my, uh..." Adolescent drooling? Mortifying lack of self-control? "For staring. You aren't quite what I expected."

"No problem. I've heard the same in more than one faculty meeting." He let her off the hook with a few simple words.

Oh, man. Smart, hunky and nice enough to grant her an easy reprieve when he could have been an egotistical jerk.

She was toast.

"Let's start again." Composure thankfully back in place, Darcy made the formal introductions without a hitch. They settled into their chairs, Bronco and Crusty suddenly opting for a new seating chart that left only one place for Dr. Keagan. Next to Darcy.

Great. Now instead of teasing her, they were "helping." She had her very own hulking Cupid with a sunflower-mooching cohort.

She probably needed their help. And then some.

If only she possessed as much ease with flirting as she did with touch-and-go landings.

er 1

First Lieutenant Darcy "Wren" Renshaw flung her flight checklist on the planning room table with a resounding smack. Not much of an outlet for her frustration, but the satisfying thunk on scarred wood made her feel marginally better.

While her siblings pounded dictators in Southeast Asia, she was stuck flying Flipper to Guam.

Restrained anger pinged inside her like antiaircraft missiles. Darcy spun an empty chair and dropped into the seat at the lengthy conference table, eager to start and therefore finish this mission all the sooner.

For once she didn't plunge into conversation with the other aircrew members plotting their early-morning takeoff from San Diego bound for Guam—an island that still haunted her dreams. No need to infect the crew with her rotten mood. After all, transporting marine biologist Dr. Maxwell Keagan and his two bottlenose dolphins to the South Pacific was considered an honor.

An honor for the rest of the C-17 crew maybe, but for her? Darcy knew better. She hadn't earned this cake mission, an embarrassing reality that burned over her with the devouring speed of flaming jet fuel.

How dare her three-star-general father "encourage" the Squadron Commander to yank Darcy's combat slot to Cantou and schedule her as a last-minute substitute on the safer Flipper Flight? She'd worked her boots off to be deserving of the wings on her leather nametag since the first day of pilot training. She wouldn't start quietly accepting gift-wrapped cushy assignments now.

Sounds of Air Force crewdogs at work wrapped around her, the familiar routine offering none of its usual excitement. Rustling charts, clipped banter. Pilots. Loadmasters. Ground support. Every one of them having already pulled their rotation in conflicts around the world. She couldn't allow them to shoulder all her risks as well as their own.

Once she off-loaded Dr. Doolittle and his dolphin duo in Guam, she would confront her commander. If she wasn't qualified for combat in the Cantou conflict, then he should remove her from flying status altogether.

Darcy yanked a bag of sunflower seeds from the thigh pocket of her flight suit and wrestled open the cellophane. Munching away emotions she refused to let rule her, she cracked shells, slowly, one at a time to restore her calm while waiting for Dr. Keagan to arrive. "Anybody seen the dolphin doc around yet?''

Captain Tanner "Bronco" Bennett, the aircraft commander, looked up from his chart. "What's your hurry, Wren? He's got another ten minutes."

"Eight," Darcy answered without checking her watch. "To be early is to be on time."

"Cool your jets. He'll get here when he gets here." Bronco reached into the thigh pocket of his flight suit. "Since we're waiting, have I showed everyone the latest pictures of Kathleen and the baby at the zoo?"

"Yes!" the room collectively shouted.

Bronco held his hands up in good-natured surrender. "Hey, just trying to pass time till the guy arrives."

"I'm starting to wonder if you could fit enough pictures in your pocket for that, Captain." Darcy eased her grouse with a quick grin, drumming her fingers impatiently on the gouged wood.

She hadn't met Keagan yet, having only arrived at the San Diego Naval Air Station from her home base in Charleston, South Carolina, the night before. But the guy must have some heavy-duty clout to warrant military transport for his dolphins.



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