Captive Of Fate. Lindsay McKenna
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“Obviously,” she agreed quietly, gaining new and increasing respect for him, regardless of what the senator had said. He wasn’t trying to cajole her or twist her thinking. And she knew it. Alanna was almost positive he rarely talked this way to anyone, and that knowledge confused her. She was his enemy. She was out to ruin his military career by proving he was a smuggler. Guilt twinged at her conscience as she watched him. There was a quiet calmness that emanated from him as steadily as a beacon shining in the darkness. A depth of peace and a rock solidness that made her feel protected. And if something did go wrong, she knew Matt would do everything in his power to save her.
She jolted herself back to reality. What on earth was she doing? He was no knight in shining armor on a white steed. Alanna, you’re too old to allow romantic thoughts to sway you from the position you’ve taken, she chided herself.
“Look,” he said, interrupting her thoughts, “I’m going to try to catch a few hours’ sleep. Are you warm enough with these?”
“Yes. Will you be warm enough? I mean, you’ve only got one—”
Matt rose, ambling over to the corner and shutting off the kerosene lamp. “I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Good night.”
She snuggled back down into the wiry wool blankets, pulling her legs up and curling into a kittenlike position. She heard him unlacing his boots and setting them on the floor. Soon, quietness pervaded the small room, and only muted voices in the next room and the constant sharp static of the radios interrupted the silence. Some time before she returned to sleep, she thought she heard the softened breathing of Matt Breckenridge and knew he had finally found an edge of peace in sleep.
* * *
Alanna awoke slowly, feeling drugged and groggy. Voices, low and urgent, became intelligible as she struggled out of the stupor. She forced her eyes open. A wedge of light slipped through the partially opened door, and she focused her attention on the whispered conversation.
“Matt, we’ve got to get up there….”
“What are the weather conditions, Cauley?” he mumbled.
A sigh of exasperation broke from the other man. “The same. Dammit, we’ve got three children up there that were just found under a fallen structure. Two are seriously injured, and the third is close to death. If we can get a chopper up there and—”
“You’re asking me to risk one of only three choppers, plus you, the pilot. I won’t allow it, Cauley. It doesn’t make any sense to lose one-third of our aircraft for an emergency flight in below-minimum conditions. Use your head.”
“Matt…please…dammit, one of those kids is only four years old! I can fly it. God, how many times did I fly you and your team in and out of worse situations? At least we aren’t getting shot at this time. I can do it. I know I can. Give me the chance!”
Alanna froze, holding her breath in anticipation of Matt’s answer. She was wide awake now, tortured by the urgency of the pilot’s plea.
“Cauley, this isn’t war. And I know you’re a crack pilot. What if I lose you? Do you know how long it will take to get a replacement? I don’t have that kind of time. And what if you do crash? I’ll have to take part of my men and search for you. I need every man I’ve got. We’re short-handed and short on time. I can’t afford to lose you, Cauley. If there wasn’t this rotten weather, I’d okay it.”
The pilot rose. “You owe me one, Matt,” he growled softly. “I’m collecting it now, buddy. I picked up your men against orders with Cong on both flanks and your backs to the river. You owe me. Six men were saved then. Let me try to save three lives now.”
“You went against my orders,” Matt gritted out, rising to his feet. “I don’t owe you for that one, Cauley,” he breathed harshly. Silence settled between them for tense moments. “Dammit,” he said finally, “why is it always children? Look, you get Blake on the radio up there, and tell him we’re going to try an emergency landing. Tell him to fire a green flare when he hears us and then ring the landing zone with red flares. Get Corporal Travis to alert the medical unit up there that we’re coming in for those kids.”
Alanna heard Cauley laugh softly. “Thanks, Matt. Just like old times, isn’t it? Nothing in our favor and everything going against us.”
“Yeah. Old times,” he agreed flatly. “We’ll try once, Cauley. And if we don’t make it in, we’re coming home…if we can get back.”
Cauley slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a cold-hearted bastard, Breckenridge, but a hell of a Marine.”
Alanna sat up, studying him as he entered the room, yanked on his boots, and picked up his jacket. “Are you going?” she breathed huskily.
His head jerked up, and he stared across the room at her. “You heard?”
“Sorry. I couldn’t help it. Is—is there anything I can do?”
He laced the boots quickly. “Yeah, bring some sanity back into this whole goddamn situation.” He moved fluidly to his feet, pulling on his heavy jacket and jamming the hat down on his head. Alanna stood, uncertainly clutching the blankets to her body.
“Then why are you doing it?” she demanded.
He halted abruptly in front of her, his eyes narrowed and intense. “For the kids. What else?”
“You could be killed.”
He managed a cutting smile. “Would you miss me?”
She sobered, her throat aching with tension. “Yes,” she admitted softly, avoiding his startled look.
He threw his hands on his hips. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered and suddenly reached out.
Alanna felt his hands upon her arms, gently drawing her against his hard, masculine body. It was so natural, so elemental. Her body rested against him fully, aware of his musky male odor. His mouth, strong and demanding, came down on her lips. He moved insistently against her, parting her lips with a ferocity that left her breathless and stunned in its wake. His hands tightened, pulling her suddenly closer. An explosion of fire seemed to go off in her spinning head. Her senses thrilled to his touch as his mouth softened against her pliant lips, becoming more gentle, coaxing. A small moan of pleasure sounded deep in her throat. She lost all sense of time and place, her fingers clutching at the fabric of his jacket, and her knees threatened to buckle beneath her.
She felt his mouth withdraw from her throbbing lips, and she leaned heavily against him, trying to reorient herself. Slowly, he lowered her to the floor. Her pulse raced as she gazed wide-eyed up at him, her heart contracting in her breast as she saw the hungry, undisguised desire ignited in his gray eyes. But there was a surprising look of tenderness there, too. He managed a small smile, reluctantly releasing her. “Lady, you are an incredible paradox,” he whispered huskily, and then his eyes gleamed with amusement. “Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone.”
Alanna couldn’t find her voice as he rose and spun around, heading for the door. She sat there, too shocked to move. What was happening to her? Why had she allowed him to kiss her? My God, what was wrong? Another, more frightening thought entered her spinning mind as she heard the helicopter blades whirring at a higher pitch somewhere outside in the blackness. What if something happened to Matt? Unsteadily, she got to her feet, walking out into the communications room, where the radioman stood at the window, watching.
He turned, glanced briefly at her, and then returned his attention to the unseen helicopter. Alanna stood beside him, listening to the rising crescendo of noise. The hut seemed to tremble as the helicopter lifted off into the impenetrable fog and darkness. She touched her lips, recalling his soulbranding kiss. My God, she had never been kissed like that before.
“Will they make it?” she asked after long, agonizing moments, her voice sounding strained.
“I don’t know, ma’am.” He scratched his head, turning away and