me, because it won’t work. I call a spade a spade.”
So much for her soft mouth and eyes. Lips tightening, he stared at her. “Okay, Lieutenant, have it your way. I was just trying to be social.”
“Yeah, right. I saw the look you gave me. It said it all. Fine. I know where I stand with you on this mission.” Sam could get away with being honest because everyone else was in the chopper, unable to hear them. She was glad to see she’d caught Gunnison off guard. She had to keep her wits about her so he wouldn’t box her in. She was just as much in charge of this mission as he was, and she wasn’t about to allow the Recon to intimidate her, as she knew he’d been trying to do with that frosty look he’d given her earlier.
Facing the chopper, Roc hefted his pack up into the hands of his sergeant. Then he turned and, his hands on his hips, glared down at her. “We need to talk. But not here. And not now. Once we get to area 5, you and I are going to have a chat, out of earshot of everyone.”
Giving him a cutting smile, Sam said, “Fine with me, Captain. But you might as well know now that you’re the last man on earth I’d ever want to have with me on a mission.”
With that lob of a grenade, Sam brushed past him and leaped up into the cargo bay of the helicopter. She found her nylon seat against the bulkhead and sat down. Looking up, she watched as Gunnison, frowning now, climbed lithely into the hold and sat on the opposite side with his men. The loadmaster slid the door shut and it locked.
Sam couldn’t steady her fluttering heart. She felt like she’d been in combat, adrenaline was pumping so hard through her veins. If Gunnison thought she was a weakling and he could run over her or intimidate her with just a look, he was badly mistaken. Judging from the frustration she saw on his face as he strapped in, Sam knew he’d gotten her message, loud and clear. She smiled to herself. This was her mission. People needed her and her team’s help. Gunnison was going to play second fiddle—or else.
Chapter 3
February 3: 0615
Once they had taken off from Camp Reed and were en route to area 5, Roc decided to tip the balance of power between Dr. Andrews and himself. After taking off his helmet, he donned a headset, unstrapped his seat belt and stood up. Pinning her with his gaze, he walked across the shaking and rattling green metal deck. Her eyes widened as he reached up, his finger brushing her thick red hair and grabbed the set of earphones that hung nearby.
She wore nothing on her head, so he simply took a step back and lowered the headset over her ears. The noise in the Sea Stallion was so bad no one could hear another without putting on the protective earphones that hooked them up to intercabin communication.
“Get up,” he told her, “and follow me.”
Stunned at his aggressive and unexpected move, Sam stood. Grabbing at the overhead nylon webbing for stability, she followed him as he walked, legs apart for balance, toward the cockpit. Her heart was hammering. The captain’s unexpected move toward her was a surprise. What was he up to? She’d seen him studying her from the other side of the helicopter, his eyes a flat blue color, intent upon her. Sam squirmed inwardly but she was damned if she was going to let him know how uncomfortable he made her feel. When his fingers had accidentally brushed her hair, she’d gasped. Contact with Gunnison wasn’t in the game as far as she was concerned. But at just the right moment, the helo had pitched slightly to port and he’d swayed forward, off balance for a moment. Nevertheless, her scalp tingled.
Sam kept her distance as she followed Gunnison. Even in the cool morning air, there was some turbulence and the helicopter wasn’t all that stable beneath her booted feet. When he reached the open door to the cockpit, he jabbed a finger at the window near the dark green panel behind the pilot’s seat. “Get down on your hands and knees and look out that window,” Gunnison growled. “You need to get a gander of area 5 from the air. If you’re looking for possible sites and locations for your medevac models, it would help to see the terrain from up here first.”
It made sense. Why hadn’t Sam thought of this? Stung by his foresight, his understanding of her mission, she gripped the nylon webbing tightly. She really didn’t want to get that close to Gunnison, but he stood with his back to the bulkhead, only inches from where she’d have to kneel to look out the window. Sam didn’t relish the idea. Dressed in his military camouflage gear, Gunnison appeared even larger and more intimidating than usual. The look on his face was grim.
“Yeah…okay,” she muttered defiantly. She’d just started to step forward when the Sea Stallion pitched unexpectedly. Sam let out a little cry as she found herself knocked off her feet.
Hands, strong and caring, grabbed for her. A second later she found her face pressed against Gunnison’s chest as he planted his feet far apart to take her full weight. Oh! The mortification of it all!
Sam made a strangled sound and instantly pushed away from Gunnison’s chest. He was laughing at her; she saw his blue eyes gleaming with humor. His mouth, however, was still a thin, disapproving slash as he helped her regain her footing. His hand remained firmly on her arm as she quickly knelt down and gripped the metal bars on either side of the window for support and balance. She felt heat flooding her neck and face. Oh, God, she was blushing! Fortunately, Gunnison couldn’t see her schoolgirl reaction.
Or so she hoped. As she looked out the window, her heart pounding, her pulse erratic, she felt his bulk settle directly behind her. Jerking her head to glance over her right shoulder, she saw him kneel down on one leg, his body barely an inch from her back. What was he doing? Intimidating her? She watched as he settled the mike of his headset close to his lips.
“Look to your left. That’s area 5 coming up in a hurry.” Roc leaned over her right shoulder, his left hand brushing her hair again as he pointed. He felt her tense as he loomed over her. The slight turbulence of the helicopter kept both of them off-kilter. Every time the helicopter bobbled, he would accidentally brush her shoulder or back, though he’d immediately compensate and pull away.
The look on her face was one of anger and frustration. Did she think he liked this any more than she did? That he was doing it on purpose? Was she going to be able to rise above personal dislike of him and focus on their real objective? Knowing that both their headsets were tuned to a private intercom channel, he said, “Look, Doc, settle down, will you? Focus on the objective, the sites. Take a look down there instead of staring at me like I’m attacking you.”
Gasping again, Sam glared up at him. Then, jerking her attention to the yellow-brown earth five thousand feet below, she tried to steady her chaotic breathing. Gunnison was so damn male, and very intimidating. He knew it, too, the bastard. He was doing this on purpose. Sam could see the glimmer of laughter in his narrowed eyes as he snapped at her.
“What am I looking at?” she demanded tightly.
Roc pulled a folded map from a jacket pocket and passed it to her so she could study it.
Sam gripped the dirty, well-used map. The chopper was bobbling again. She felt Gunnison tense behind her, straightening his left leg and bracing his boot against the bulkhead. To his credit, he was trying not to brush against her, but the turbulence made it impossible.
His face was so close to hers as he leaned forward and traced his index finger over the map that Sam felt trapped. Suffocated. He was so tall, almost larger than life as he framed her body with his.
She winced as he spoke. “This is area 5. There are a couple visual markers to indicate the boundaries, and I’ll point them out to you. Out there, at three o’clock, is a radio tower. See it?”
