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  “No, sir. It’s just that I can’t see letting my CO do something I’m perfectly capable of doing for myself, especially when it involves his free time.”

  “And I suppose you think your CO is incapable of deciding for himself how to spend his free time?”

  “No, sir.” Her cheeks were growing warm. “It never entered my head.” She seemed to have an absolute genius for saying the wrong thing to this man.

  “Did it occur to you that since you’re doing your CO a favor he might want to return it?”

  “I thought you were doing me a favor. You’re giving me a lift to the mall.”

  “Andrea…” His voice had grown dangerous.

  “Sir?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  And damn it, he thought, if she didn’t stay silent as a clam all the way to the mall. It wasn’t until they were strolling to the toy store that he realized she was going to stay quiet all night because he’d told her to. He glanced at her with frustration.

  “Andrea.”

  “Sir?”

  “Talk.”

  “Yes, sir.” She cocked her head, and he caught the gleam in her eye. “About what, sir?”

  “Anything that takes your fancy. And stop calling me ‘sir.”’

  “Yes, sir.”

  A muffled sound escaped him. She was utterly unable to tell if it was rage or laughter. Certainly the ice in his blue eyes was suddenly replaced by fire.

  “Andrea,” he said, drawing up short to face her.

  “Sir?”

  “Has anyone ever told you that it can be dangerous to drive your CO crazy? He just might be tempted to make your life miserable.”

  Her expression became one of perfect innocence. “I’m only trying to follow orders.”

  “We’re off duty, Andrea.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Act like it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He took a menacing step toward her. “I told you to stop calling me ‘sir.”’ Her mouth opened, and for an instant he thought the imp in her would drive her to say ‘yes, sir’ anyway, but suddenly a laugh escaped her, and humor filled her hazy green eyes with warmth.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Thank God,” he said with exaggerated relief. “I was beginning to think I’d have to strangle you to get you to stop that.”

  “No, sir,” she said, and darted away laughing just as he turned on her. “I promise,” she said, grinning, holding up a hand and backing away from him. “Not again. I won’t do it again!”

  “If you do, I’ll leave you to walk back to base,” he growled, his anger belied by the twinkle in his eye.

  “Scout’s honor. I won’t say the s-word again this evening.”

  Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks glowed pink, and for the first time since he’d met her, Andrea Burke didn’t look like a woman who was trying her damnedest to be someone else. No, he corrected himself, she’d also been herself the night she aided him after the accident. Her imp had come out then, too, and her concern for him had been genuine and warm. Too often, however, she appeared to be inhibiting her natural liveliness in favor of some sexless, sterile image of her role. But then, he reminded himself sternly, how well did he really know her? Just because he’d spent the better part of his evenings for a week wondering how to get behind that facade…

  Andrea’s attention was suddenly caught by the sight of a small artificial Christmas tree in a shop window.

  “Maybe I should get one of those for my quarters,” she said almost wistfully. “I really miss having a tree.”

  “Just once I’d like to get out of having to put one up.”

  Andrea glanced up at him in question.

  “I’ll be moving into family housing in two weeks,” MacLendon explained. Rank had its privileges, like a three-bedroom house for a bachelor colonel. “I’ll be expected to do the usual holiday entertaining, so I’ll have a tree and all the rest of the trimmings.”

  “Don’t you like Christmas trees?” He was beginning to sound like Scrooge, Andrea thought with amusement.

  “The trees are okay. All of it’s okay. It’s just that it’s a pain to do it alone, and it always makes me so damn blue.”

  “Couldn’t you spend the holidays with your family?”

  “I could, but then my deputy would be stuck here. He wants to visit his family in Georgia.”

  Andrea nodded, understanding. As a bachelor officer, she’d always felt obliged to work through the holidays so men with families and others who wanted to go home could do so. She sent Dare MacLendon a glance from the corner of her eye. “You need a wife. Then she could do all the decorating and plan all the entertaining.”

  “That’s usually how it works, isn’t it?” he agreed, never missing a beat. “A woman who marries an Air Force officer might as well enlist herself.”

  “I hear it’s the same in corporate America,” Andrea said after a moment.

  “Is that why you haven’t married?” MacLendon asked, taking her by surprise.

  Andrea blinked, speechless.

  He looked down at her, smiling faintly. “Yes, I asked a personal question. Are you going to answer me?”

  Andrea glanced down at the terrazzo floor and then back up. “Truthfully, I just haven’t wanted to get married.”

  Dare thought he could understand that, considering how Charlie Burke had treated his wife, like some beast of burden.

  “What about you?” Andrea asked unexpectedly, her cheeks pink again.

  “A personal question for a personal question, huh? I was married once, long, long ago. It didn’t survive my second tour in Nam. Maureen discovered that the reality of being a pilot’s wife didn’t live up to the imaginings.” Deliberately he returned his gaze to the artificial tree in the window. “Come on, Andrea,” he said, “let’s go get you your tree.”

  “But I—”

  Icy blue eyes glanced her way. “You want it, don’t you? Then buy it.”

  Once again annoyed, Andrea followed him. She didn’t like being maneuvered into something, even if it was something she’d been about to do anyway. The man was clearly so used to ordering everyone around that he did it even when he was off duty. He most definitely needed a wife, one who didn’t have a docile bone in her body, to keep him in line. Overbearing, that was what he was.

  Dare thoroughly enjoyed the next half hour. Watching Andrea trying to remain cool and distant because of her irritation with him, while at the same time she was so clearly enjoying herself, amused him. She kept her remarks to monosyllables, but her hazy green eyes sparkled with pleasure as she selected delicate ornaments.

  When her purchases were made, MacLendon insisted on carrying them out to his new Bronco himself and told Andrea he’d meet her at the toy store.

  She was hovering over the stuffed animals, trying to decide which one would most thrill a two-year-old niece, when a hesitantly cleared throat drew her attention. Looking up, she saw a young man in jeans and a military survival parka, the one uniform item that was permitted to be worn with civvies. Focusing on the young, nervous face, Andrea struggled to identify him.

  “You’re Jones, aren’t you?” she said after a moment.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

  Andrea smiled. “Are you Christmas shopping, too?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m here with some friends to see a movie. I saw you come in here and—” He licked his lips and looked down at the floor.

  “Do you need to talk to me?” Andrea asked gently.

  “Yes, ma’am.” The airman looked relieved. “I know you’re off duty, but…”

  “But it can’t wait till Monday.”

  “I don’t want anybody to know I talked to you,” he said miserably. “I heard some things.”

  “Where are your friends?”

  “They just went into the movie. I said I had to use the latrine.”

  Andrea nodded. “Can you talk here?”

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