His Woman in Command & Operations: Forbidden. Lindsay McKenna

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ pilots in combat, no women-only squadrons existed. “We’re top secret to the rest of the world. Here at camp, they know what we do,” she added to ward off questions she saw in his large blue eyes.

      Under other circumstances, Nike would be interested in this warrior. Clearly, he was an A-team leader. She knew these brave and hardy Special Forces teams were on the front lines, finding Taliban and stopping their incursion into Afghanistan’s space. His hands were large, square and roughened by work and the forces of the weather.

      “Ah, black ops,” Gavin murmured. He saw the wariness in her gold eyes. “You’re new?”

      “I arrived a week ago.”

      “Welcome aboard,” he said, holding out his hand toward her. This time, he was sincere. Anyone who flew the border risked their lives every time they lifted off from this secret base.

      Looking at his proffered hand and then up at him, Nike couldn’t help herself and slid her hand into his. He grinned like a little boy given a Christmas gift. Despite the neatly trimmed beard that gave his square face a dangerous look, he seemed happy to meet her. Well, they were both in the army and that meant something. Her flesh tingled as his fingers wrapped gently around hers. She admired his deeply sunburned face, laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. A wild, unexpected surge of excitement coursed through Nike. What was that all about? Why was her heart pounding? She broke the contact and pulled her hand away.

      Oh, he was eye candy, there was no doubt. The boyish, crooked grin made him even more devastatingly handsome, Nike decided.

      “What’s your name?” Gavin asked. He forced his hands off the bar, unexpectedly touching her olive-tone skin. The brief contact sent crazy tingles up and down his arm. The close proximity to this woman intoxicated him in quite another way. Gavin fully realized he was more than a little tipsy from the beer he and his team had been guzzling. But he was still alert, still fixated on this new person of interest.

      “I’m Captain Nike Alexander,” she informed him in a clipped and wary tone. She’d just arrived with her squadron from the USA and wanted to focus only on the mission before them. As an all-women squadron they had a lot to prove—again. They’d done it in Peru, now it would be here. She didn’t want to tangle with some sex-hungry A-team leader who hadn’t seen a woman in God knew how long. Still, a secret part of her wondered what Gavin would look like without that beard. Not that he wasn’t handsome with it; maybe she was just more interested than she cared to admit.

      “Nike,” he murmured, rolling the name around on his tongue. “That’s different.” He squinted and gave her a measuring look. “Are you…American?” Her husky voice had a trace of an accent. When she frowned, he knew he’d asked the wrong question.

      “I was born in Athens, Greece, Captain. I was invited from my country to train and work for the U.S. Army.” She turned and showed the American flag on the left shoulder of her uniform.

      “Greek.” That made sense, although he’d said it as if he were stunned by the information. Seeing the frustration in her large, clear gold eyes, Gavin asked, “Wasn’t Nike a goddess in Greek myths?”

      “She still is,” Nike said in a flat tone. “I was named after her.”

      “I see.” Gavin stood there, his brows dipping. “So, you’re part of a black ops, you’re a female pilot and you’re from Greece.” Brightening, he shared a look with her, his smile crooked. “That makes you a pretty rare specimen out here in our backcountry.”

      “You’re making me feel like a bug under a microscope, Captain. Why don’t you mosey back to your team. I’m not interested in anything but my mission here.”

      Her tone was low and dismissive.

      Gavin kept his smile friendly and tried to appear neutral and not the leering, sexually hungry male he really was. It was now or never. “Speaking of that, Captain Alexander, we were wondering if you might not come and join us? My boys and I are going back for thirty more days in the bush tomorrow morning. We’d enjoy your company.”

      Easing into a standing position, Nike glanced over at the table. Nine other bearded men in Afghan dress looked hopefully in her direction. English-speaking women who were not Muslim were a rarity in this country. Of course they’d want her company. “Captain, I’m not the USO. And I’m not for sale at any price. If you want female entertainment I suggest you find it somewhere else.”

      Ouch. Gavin scowled. “Just a beer, Captain. Or we’ll buy you another cup of coffee. That’s all. Nothing else.” He held up both his hands. “Honest.”

      “I appreciate the offer,” Nike said. She pulled out a few coins from her pocket and put them on the bar next to the drained cup of coffee. “But I must respectfully decline, Captain.” She turned and marched out of the tent.

      “That went well,” Gavin said, his grin wide and silly-looking as she exited. He walked over to his men, who looked defeated.

      “You crashed and burned,” Robles groaned.

      Jackson poured himself another glass of beer. “She’s got other fish to fry.” He said it as lightly as he could.

      The men nodded and nursed their beers.

      At twenty-eight, Gavin understood that a little fun and laughter was good medicine for his men. Silently, he thanked Nike Alexander for her decision. What would it have been like to have her come over and sit with them? It would have lifted their collective spirits. They were starving for some feminine attention. Oh, she probably realized this, but didn’t get that his invitation was truly harmless. Gavin had seen a lot of sensitivity in her face and read it in her eyes. However, she was protective, if not a little defensive about sharing that side. He couldn’t blame her.

      Gavin told them what he’d found out. His men were like slavering dogs getting a morsel tossed to them. In Afghanistan, Muslim women could not talk directly to any man. Consequently, it was a world of males with males and the women were hidden away in their homes. Gavin missed being stateside. Even though he’d crashed and burned with Laurie Braverman on his first tour here, he still hungered for conversation with an intelligent woman.

      As he glanced toward the flap of the tent where Nike Alexander had marched through, Gavin lamented her departure. Clearly, she thought he was hitting on her. Well, wasn’t he? Digging into the pocket of his trousers, he produced a twenty-dollar bill and threw it across the table to his medic. “Here, Robles. Satisfied?”

      Chuckling, Neal took the twenty and hoisted it upward. “You tried. Hey, Cap’n, this will give us another round of beer!”

      The men clapped and hooted, and Gavin grinned crookedly. His team needed this kind of blowout before they got dropped in the badlands again. As he took one more look to where Nike had left, he wished he’d had a little more time with her. Would they ever meet again? Hope sprang in his chest. Nike was a fascinating woman, pilot or not. Gavin shrugged off any romantic thoughts and took a deep swig of beer. Chances of ever seeing Nike Alexander again were next to nothing.

      * * *

      “Nike,” Major Dallas Klein-Murdoch said, “sit down and relax. Welcome to BJS 60.”

      Nike settled in front of her commanding officer’s desk. Every incoming pilot to the squadron did a one-on-one with the CO. This morning, it was her turn. Dallas Klein’s reputation with the original Black Jaguar Squadron, for which she had flown in СКАЧАТЬ