Full Throttle

“The point is,” she said firmly, “I was married to a man a lot like you. A helluva pilot, but too handsome for his own—or anyone else’s—good. It didn’t work for us and I want you to know right up-front I’ve sworn off the type.”

One sun-bleached eyebrow hooked. He studied Kate for long moments. “That flight I told you about? The one I took a year or so ago with the air force Hurricane Hunters out of Keesler?”

“Yes?”

“Your ex-husband was the pilot.”

Kate’s mouth twisted. Obviously she wasn’t the only one who got an earful. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll just assume John implied I didn’t leave him with a smile on his face.”

“Something along those lines.”

She cocked her head, curious now about the workings of this man’s mind. “And that didn’t scare you off?”

His grin came back, swift and slashing and all male. “No, ma’am.”

“It should have. As I said, it didn’t work out between John and me. Just as it wouldn’t work between the two of us.”

“Well, I’m not looking for a deep, meaningful relationship, you understand….”

“Somehow I didn’t think you were,” Kate drawled.

“But that’s not to say we couldn’t test the waters.”

“No, thanks.”

She scooted off the end of the bench and rose. She’d said what needed saying. The conversation was finished.

Evidently Scott didn’t agree. Uncoiling his long frame from the opposite bench, he came around to her side of the table.

“You’re a scientist. You tote a Ph.D. after your name. I would think you’d want to conduct a series of empirical tests and collect some irrefutable data before you write us off.”

“I’ve collected all the data I need.”

“Denise might not agree.”

There it was again. That glint of wicked laughter.

“I’m sure she wouldn’t,” Kate agreed.

“Then I’d say you owe it to yourself to perform at least one definitive test.”

His hand came up, curled under her chin, tipped her face. Kate knew she could stop this with a single word. She hadn’t reached the rank of lieutenant commander in NOAA’s small commissioned-officer corps without learning how to handle herself in just about any situation.

She could only blame curiosity—and the determination to show Dave Scott she meant business—for the way she stood passive and allowed him to conduct the experiment.

Three

He knew how to kiss. Kate would give him that.

He didn’t swoop. Didn’t zero in hard and fast. He took things slow, easy, his mouth playing with hers, his breath a warm wash against her lips. Just tantalizing enough to stir small flickers of pleasure under her skin. Just teasing enough to make her want more.

Sternly, Kate resisted the urge to tilt her head and make her mouth more accessible. Not that Scott required her assistance. His thumb traced a slow circle on the underside of her chin and gently nudged it to a more convenient angle for his greater height. By the time the experiment ended, Kate was forced to admit the truth.

“That was nice.”

“Nice, huh?”

“Very nice,” she conceded. “But it didn’t light any fires.”

Not major ones, anyway. Just those irritating little flickers still zapping along her nerve endings.

“That was only an engine check.” His thumb made another lazy circle on the underside of her chin. “Next time, we’ll rev up to full throttle.”

It wouldn’t do any good to state bluntly there wouldn’t be a next time. Dave Scott would only take that as another personal challenge.

“Tell you what.” Deliberately, she eased away from his touch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to rev my engines. Until then, we focus only on our mission while on-site. Agreed?”

“If that’s what you want.”

She leveled a steady look at him. Ignored the little crinkle of laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. Disregarded the way the deepening shadows cast his face into intriguing planes and angles.

“That’s what I want.”

Kate had almost as much trouble convincing her roommates she wanted to stick strictly to business as she had convincing Dave Scott.

Cari and Jill were both waiting when she returned to the modular unit that served as their quarters. The unit was functional at best—three cracker box–size bedrooms, an even smaller kitchen and a living area equipped with furniture more designed for utility than for comfort. The three women had added a few personal touches. Kate had tacked up some posters showing the earth’s weather in all its infinite variety. Cloudbursts over the Grand Canyon. Snow dusting the peaks of the Andes. The sun blazing down on a Swiss alpine meadow. Cari had added a shelf crammed with the whodunits and thrillers she devoured like candy. Jill stuck to her army roots and had draped a green flag depicting the crossed dueling pistols of the Military Police over one bare wall. The result wouldn’t win any house-beautiful awards, but the three officers had grown used to it.

They’d also grown used to each other’s idiosyncrasies. No small feat for women accustomed to being on their own and in charge. Still, their close quarters made for few secrets—as Cari proceeded to demonstrate. Curled in her favorite chair, the Coast Guard officer propped the thick technical manual she’d been studying on her chest and demanded an account.

“Okay, Hargrave, re-port. What’s with you and the latest addition to our merry band?”

“Other than the fact he drove me into the compound after my tumble this morning, nothing.”

Polite disbelief skipped across Cari’s heart-shaped face. Jill Bradshaw was more direct.

“Ha! Some weather officer you are. We all heard the thunder rumbling around you and Scott. You sure lightning isn’t about to strike?”

“I should be so lucky.”

Kate plopped down beside her on the sofa and yanked the clip out of her hair. Raking her fingers through the heavy mass, she gave the cop a rueful smile.

“I’ll tell you this much. Dave isn’t like Cody, Jill. You struck gold there.”

“Yeah, right,” the blonde snorted. “I had to put him on his face in the dirt before either of us got around to recognizing that fact. Not to mention almost arresting him for suspected sabotage.”

Kate’s smile dimmed at the memory of those tense days when a mysterious virus had attacked one team member after another. As chief of security, Jill’s investigation had centered on the Public Service officer—who just happened to be one of the country’s foremost experts in biological agents.

“Besides which,” Jill continued with a shrug, “Cody and I are doing our best to play things cool until we wind up the Pegasus project.”