The Complete Mackenzie Collection Read online

  “I didn’t know. I’d never thought about it before.” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go on, get out of here. You destroy my concentration. I couldn’t work all day yesterday after what you did, so I’m not letting you near me this morning.”

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth she realized she should have known better. The light of battle gleamed coolly in his eyes as he walked toward her. She had inadvertently issued a challenge, and his dominant nature compelled him to call her on it.

  She was still sitting down, and he leaned over her, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair and capturing her before she could scramble away. He kissed her, slanting his hard mouth over hers and using his tongue with devastating thoroughness. Her toes curled in her shoes; she surrendered without even the pretense of struggle, accepting his intrusion and welcoming it with unguarded eagerness.

  He shuddered and instantly straightened, his face hard with lust. “What are you wearing tonight?”

  She struggled to gather her senses, so easily scattered by his touch. “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

  She had never before seen his eyes so blue and intense. “No. You’ll be naked five minutes after we check into the hotel.”

  The image was shattering. Helplessly she closed her eyes, her mouth going dry. When she opened them again, he was gone.

  If she affected him even half as much as he affected her, he wouldn’t be able to fly the damn plane. The fear rose nauseatingly in her throat again, surging back at full force. It took all of her willpower to force it away, but she managed it, because she knew that when it came down to it, that cold-blooded control of his would shut out every thought that didn’t pertain to flying, the real love of his life. The truth hurt, but she took comfort in it, too, for as unpalatable as it was it would keep him safe, and that was all she asked.

  Cal had been making a point of arriving in the mornings before Adrian, but she had disrupted his schedule that morning and was still alone when Adrian came in. He gave her an almost automatic look of dislike, poured a cup of coffee and sat down without speaking. Adrian didn’t bother her much, anyway, but that morning she was so on edge that she scarcely even noticed he was there. She sat at her desk, torn between fear and anticipation. Part of her mind persisted in dwelling on the dangers of test flights, while the other part kept sliding away to sensual images of the coming night. She couldn’t believe she was actually looking forward to it, but not even the realistic expectation of discomfort, at the least, was enough to quell her fever. She wanted Joe, needed him desperately, with an instinct so primal that the threat of pain was swept aside like a toothpick in a flood.

  But first she had to live through the flights today.

  “Dreaming about lover boy?” Adrian asked nastily.

  She blinked at the interruption. “What? Oh—yes. I was. Sorry. Did you ask me something?”

  “Only about your love life. I’m a little surprised, though. I didn’t think it was men you liked, or have you decided to try some variety?”

  Inexperience was not the same thing at all as ignorance, and she knew exactly what he was hinting at. She gave him a cold look, suddenly relishing the idea of a good, clean battle, free of entangling emotions. “Did you know I was always so much younger than the boys in my class that I was almost through college before I was mature enough for any of them to notice me?”

  The question startled him; the puzzlement showed on his good-looking face. “So?”

  “So they came after me hot and heavy, expecting me to know the score, but I didn’t know anything at all about men and dating. I’d never been around kids my own age. I’d never been kissed, never been to a prom, never learned the things other girls learned at parties and on double dates. When those guys came on so strong it scared the hell out of me, so I said and did whatever it took to run them off. Are you getting the picture?”

  He didn’t, not at first. His incomprehension was plain. But then understanding broke through his hostility, and he stared at her in shocked disbelief. “Are you saying you were afraid of me?”

  “Well, what else could I be?” she flashed. “You were grabbing at me and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “For God’s sake, I’m not a rapist!” he snapped.

  “How was I supposed to know?” She stood up and shook her fist at him. “If you hadn’t been so damn sure of yourself and thought no woman could resist you, you might have noticed that I was scared!”

  “You didn’t act scared!”

  “So I get belligerent when I feel threatened.” She was standing over him now, glaring and all but breathing fire. “For your information, Colonel Mackenzie is the first man to notice how uneasy I was, and he doesn’t attack me like a hungry octopus.” No, all he did was make love to her with that infuriating control of his, reducing her to mush while he remained perfectly clearheaded. That, however, wasn’t any of Adrian’s business. “I’m tired of your snide remarks, do you understand? Put a sock in it, as of right now, or I’ll stuff one in for you.”

  The shock left his face, and he glared back at her with a return of hostility. “Am I supposed to feel guilty because you’re a social misfit? You’re not the only one with problems, lady. I’d just gone through a god-awful divorce, my wife had dumped me for a weasel who made twice as much money as I did and I needed a little ego building myself. So don’t blame me for not noticing your delicate psyche and pandering to it, because you sure as hell didn’t notice mine!”

  “Then we’re even,” she charged. “So get off my back!”

  “With pleasure!”

  She stomped back to her chair and flung herself into it. After glaring at the spec sheet for about thirty seconds she muttered, “I’m sorry about your wife.”

  “Ex-wife.”

  “She probably isn’t happy.”

  Adrian leaned back in his chair, scowling at her. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

  It was an effort, but she growled, “That’s okay.”

  He mumbled something and turned to his own work.

  She had sought relief and distraction in anger, and it had succeeded while it lasted, but now that the confrontation was over her edginess came creeping back. Still, it looked like the air might have cleared some between Adrian and herself, or at least settled down, so it had been beneficial in that way.

  Yates and Cal came trooping in, Cal still looking rumpled and sleepy, but he gave Caroline a grin and a wink. Then they all went over to the control room for the day’s flights. The pilots were still there, four of them suited up in full harness, with straps and hoses and oxygen masks, and wearing speed jeans. Joe and Captain Bowie Wade were flying the Night Wings; Daffy Deale and Mad Cat Myrick were flying chase in the F-22s. Joe was totally absorbed in the job at hand, as she had known he would be, and the knot of fear in her throat relaxed some to actually be able to see it.

  She tried not to let herself stare at him but the impulse was irresistible. He was a lodestone to her eyes, and she was fascinated by him. It wasn’t just his tall, superbly muscled body or the chiseled perfection of his face, but the aura surrounding him. Joe Mackenzie was a warrior—cool, nerveless, lethal in his controlled savagery. The blood of countless generations of warriors ran in his veins; his instincts were those honed in past wars, in numberless bloody battles. The other pilots had some of the same instincts, the same aura, but in him those things had been condensed and purified, meeting in a perfect combination of body, intellect and ability. The others knew it; it was obvious in the way they looked at him, the respect they automatically gave him. It wasn’t just that he was a colonel and in charge of the project, though his rank garnered its own respect, but what they gave him as a man and a pilot they would have given him even had they all outranked him. Some men stood out from the crowd, and Joe Mackenzie was one of them. He could never have been a businessman, a lawyer or a doctor. He was what he was, and he had sought the profession that would let him do what he was so perfectly suited to do.