The Complete Mackenzie Collection Read online

  She didn’t speak, but continued to watch him.

  “We all have to work together, because we have a lot to do and not much time left to do it in. I don’t want morale wrecked by hostility, and I don’t want you to suffer behavior from my men that makes you uncomfortable. They’re men, and they live their lives flying on the edge of disaster. They’re wild and arrogant, and they need to blow off steam, typically with booze and women and dumb stunts. One way to keep them from hitting on you is to turn this base into a war zone, with everybody disliking you and not cooperating with you, which won’t get the work done. The other way is to let them think you’re mine.”

  She didn’t like his phrasing. “That’s so Neanderthal, it has hair all over it.”

  “They won’t bother you then,” he continued, ignoring her comment. “In fact, they’ll be downright protective.”

  She stood up and began pacing his office. “I just want to be left alone so I can work. Is that such a big thing to ask? Why should I have to hide behind a false relationship?”

  “For one thing, they all assume that you’ve had the normal experiences of a woman your age.”

  She scowled at him, not liking the way he’d phrased the sentence. Her “age” indeed! He’d made it sound as if she were almost ready to file for Social Security.

  “It won’t occur to them that their actions could actually be frightening to you,” he continued. “There’s also the possibility that some of their teasing won’t be so lighthearted, that a couple of them might make some serious moves on you and could turn ugly when you slap them down. I can’t afford the disruption to the program if I had to bring disciplinary charges against any of my men. I need them, and I need you. Even if they knew you’re so inexperienced, it wouldn’t keep them from trying to get in your pants. If anything, knowing that you’re a virgin would make it worse. The best thing is to mark you out of bounds for them by pretending you’re involved with someone else, and the only man on the base they wouldn’t consider poaching on is me. So from now on, as far as they’re concerned, you’re mine. All you have to do is act halfway friendly to me in front of them, rather than glaring at me as if you’d like to have my head on a platter.”

  “With an apple stuffed in your mouth,” she muttered. Then the details of what he’d just said hit her and she stared at him in mortification, her eyes widening and color burning in her cheeks. Damn it, why hadn’t she hooted with laughter when he’d talked about her being a virgin? Now it was too late to deny it.

  Joe was still watching her with that calm, remote expression, but his eyes were narrowed and strangely intense.

  She couldn’t meet that penetrating gaze. Her embarrassment was almost unbearable. She summoned her last dregs of composure and said, “All right.” Then, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, she succumbed to the powerful urge to run from him.

  Chapter 3

  For several minutes after she had literally run from his office, Joe remained leaning back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head and a small, satisfied smile curving the corners of his firm mouth.

  So she was a virgin. He had only been guessing, but it had been a good guess. An experienced woman wouldn’t have been so embarrassed or at such total loss about what to say or do. Poor little darling. For all her intelligence, she was a babe in the woods when it came to men and sex, and the reaction she had learned in her youth, when some idiot had probably scared the hell out of her by grabbing at her, had become her standard way of dealing with a man’s attention.

  He had been in the office before dawn, his mind on her rather than the coming flight and on impulse he had requested her file. It had been interesting reading. From the time she had started school, she had been separated from her own age group, and she had responded to the inevitable social alienation by devoting herself to her studies, thereby widening the gulf as she outpaced her schoolmates. That wasn’t exactly what had been in her file, of course; the impersonal papers had listed only numbers and accomplishments, except for the detailed security check, which had noted the lack of a personal relationship with a man—ever—but neither her psychological profile nor a detailed investigation had revealed any hint of homosexuality. Her work record did reveal a few instances when Dr. Evans hadn’t gotten along with a co-worker, always male, but as the field of physics was dominated by men that wasn’t in itself meaningful.

  Remembering her reaction to him the night before, Joe had begun thinking. Was she so bristly because she had always been the odd man out, socially, emotionally and physically, during her childhood and adolescence? Her own age group would have shunned her, and her classmates wouldn’t have been interested in socializing with someone who, compared to them, was a child. By the time she was physically mature and old enough for it not to matter, the pattern was set and she had so many defenses in place that no one could get past all the thorns.

  The only way for a man to get close to her was for her to open the gate herself, something that wasn’t likely to happen. But then he had seen the way she tensed when Daffy had put his arm around her waist, and the answer had flashed into his mind. A second later he had put his plan into action.

  Her work was important to her. For that, she would tolerate the fiction of having a relationship with him, even though she had made it plain the night before that she didn’t want to be gossiped about. He knew she was going to be gossiped about under any circumstances, because she just wasn’t the type of woman who faded into the woodwork. Given the choice of having to pretend to be involved with him and putting up with the gossip, or possibly not being able to work on the Night Wing project at all, she had chosen the former. He had counted on that very reaction while he had been forming his argument.

  Now the other men would leave her alone, giving him an unobstructed field, and he meant to use his advantage to the fullest. She would have to spend time with him, get to know him, learn to relax with him.

  Her seduction would be the sweetest mission he’d ever undertaken. Taming that little hedgehog in bed would be more exciting than breaking Mach 3.

  Caroline didn’t dare return to work; she knew her discomfort would be written plainly on her face for everyone to see, and Adrian would make some snide comments about taking care of her love life on her own time. She darted into the nearest ladies’ room and sought privacy in a stall.

  She was trembling all over and felt strangely close to tears. She seldom cried, because it didn’t accomplish anything except making her nose stuffy. Even more strangely, she had been ignominiously routed again, and it was time she faced the facts.

  It wasn’t anything Colonel Mackenzie had done that frightened her so; it was her own reactions to him that were terrifying. Intelligence wasn’t worth anything if she hid her head in the sand and didn’t admit the truth to herself. She had let herself grow too cocky about her ability to keep men at a distance by using her sharp tongue; not only was the colonel not intimidated by it—damn the man, he seemed to enjoy it!—but maybe she had been able to hold off those other men only because she hadn’t been attracted to any of them. The shortness of breath, the panic attacks, the pounding of her heart and cowardly behavior, could all mean only one thing: sexual attraction. As an intelligent female, her instinctive impulse was to run for her life.

  She excused herself for not having recognized it immediately, because after all, it was the first time she had ever experienced the phenomenon. She hadn’t known how to drive a car the first time she had gotten behind the steering wheel, either. She had always been slightly puzzled by both genders’ sometimes feverish antics when trying to attract someone of the opposite sex, but now she knew what was at the bottom of it all. Gonads. It was disconcerting to have one’s glands turn traitor.

  And now there was this situation she had somehow become mired in. She felt certain that if she only applied herself to it, she would be able to come up with some other solution, but her brain didn’t seem to want to work. It was probably a side effect of overactive