Under Siege

She didn't need to know about the boundary dispute heating in South America, or that he'd volunteered his unit for this mission so he could dig into control tower data linked to Lance Sinclair's crash.



Beyond what he owed Lance, Patrick and Julia, three other crew members had died that day. He needed answers.



"It's safe." He hoped. "But I can't promise you it will be next time. Julia, the last thing I want is to check out and leave my kids behind, but this is what I do. On any given day, war or peacetime, the US military has troops deployed in seventy countries. That's just the average. Humanitarian relief, drug intervention patrols, peace-keeping forces. War or no war, we're out there doing our job and it's not always going to be safe."



Julia stared at the floor. Did she even know her hands shook?



Skimming her drooping tank strap back up onto her shoulder, he wanted to hold her until she quit shaking. "I want you, no question about it. I've always been upfront about that, and turning you away right now is the hardest damned thing I've ever done."



He allowed his thumb to explore her fragile collarbone, a reward for holding strong.



"Think it through while I'm gone and see if my job is something you can handle before we go any further."



She looked up, direct with no wavering. Her hands might be trembling, but her gaze was rock-steady. "You missed out on something incredible tonight."



The soft skin beneath his callused thumb, and her eyes so passionate about everything affirmed that fact even more than her words. "I know."



His hand fell away and he stood. He swiped his T-shirt off the floor. "I'm going up to the office and clear out some paperwork before I leave."



Run a few hundred laps on the way.



He opened the door.



"Zach."



He glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah, Julia?'



"Could you go the extra mile in reassuring me while you're gone? A call when you land.



Let me know what you can so my imagination doesn't go crazy. The more I know, the less I'll worry. It's the things I don't know about that drive me nuts."



The weight of his half truths landed square on his shoulders, but damn it, this was different than the lies Lance had shoveled her way over an affair. This was about his job and giving what honor he could to Lance Sinclair for Patrick, a child he found himself thinking of as a son.



Telling Julia that Lance's reputation was even in question could only hurt her, likely for nothing. He was protecting her. No need to tell her anything more until after the investigation was complete.



Zach nodded. "I'll call."



As he walked away from Julia, he knew that even a month apart wasn't going to stop the inevitable. He would end up in her bed. It would be incredible. And it would be the first step toward a first-class crash-and-burn, because those half truths insisted he didn't stand a chance in hell of being any better a husband this go-round.



Chapter 10



Julia wiggled her toes in the foam separators while Ivy painted each nail. The girl's brow furrowed as she slicked on Five Alarm Red, a fitting color for Julia's night at a Valentine's Ball.



And, she hoped a red-hot night with Zach.



He'd been right to insist on a month's distance from the anniversary of Lance's death, but now, she was ready. No more waiting. Well, she would have to wait another hour until he landed from his TDY and dashed home to change. Then she planned to tear up one very sexy Lieutenant Colonel.



Uncomplicated passion. Just what they both needed as a haven from the stresses in their lives.



Julia shivered in anticipation.



Shelby's reflection in the mirror smiled back at Julia. "Hold still! Only a few more curls to go."



"Thanks, hon." Julia reached over her shoulder to pat Shelby's arm, grateful for her stepdaughter's smile more than her help.



The teen wielded the curling iron in a flurry of twists and spins, the thin wand creating a halo of spirals around Julia's face. Patrick squealed from his swing, feet pumping as he tracked all the activity with his eyes. Life felt good for the first time in over a year, longer than that actually, since she and Lance had been going through such rocky times.



God, she was more than ready to experience life again.



Zach had been scheduled to arrive home two days ago, but a faulty indicator light had delayed his takeoff. Now, she would have to endure the whole evening and their mandatory appearance at the Valentine's Dining-Out formal before she could have him all to herself.



True to his word, he'd called her every couple of days. No lengthy conversations, just the steady reassurance of his deep voice rumbling across the phone lines. Great mission today, Jules. But we're wasted. Need to hit the rack and sleep. Give the kids a hug for me.



Sometimes those connections crackled with so much static she didn't even want to speculate where the call originated. So she didn't. Instead, she'd thrown herself into putting Lance's death behind her and making a life for herself and her child, spreading some of that healing to Zach's children as well.



"All done." Shelby untwirled the last curl. "So, Paddy-my-pal, what do you think of your mama?"



Patrick cooed his approval with a gummy grin. Julia halted the swing to kiss his head.



"Thanks, sweetie. You're a prince." She twisted toward Shelby. "And thanks to you, too."



"It's so not a big deal. Now glue those curls in place before they fall." Shelby passed a can of hairspray to Julia, then plopped down to sit by Patrick. "Hey there, little buddy!



Wanna go for a walk? Me, you and Aggie can make it around the block twice before it gets dark. Huh? Whatcha think?"



Shelby tickled his tummy and gabbed nonstop, her face uncharacteristically open whenever she played with Patrick. She'd surprised them all by asking to take a Red Cross baby-sitting course so she could watch Patrick. She'd even begun attending his family-support meetings with Julia. Who would have thought an infant could make more headway with maturing Shelby than a house full of adults?



Ivy plugged in the blow-dryer and waggled it over Julia's wet toenails. "I need some money for recital tickets. Could you write it out tonight in case we're in a hurry in the morning?"



"I thought I already sent that in."



"I, uh, told my teacher to save two more."



Patrick's swing creaked and swooshed in the silence.



How many times would Julia have to pass off the unclaimed tickets to the Bennetts so Ivy wouldn't be faced with those empty seats? God love him, Bronco had been a real trooper about sitting through two hours of Nutcracker excerpts and Santa's Elves Go Broadway last Christmas. "I'll leave the check on the table."



Ivy's grin crinkled her nose. "Thanks."



Shelby chucked Patrick's chin and puffed in his face until he giggled. "Well, Patrick, I sure hope the Bennetts like Swan Lake. '



Julia swatted the air behind her chair to wave Shelby quiet. "Thanks for all the pampering, girls. Why don't you call for the pizza while I finish dressing? I'll come out for a fashion show in a minute."



The door closed behind them, muffling arguments about pepperoni versus sausage. Julia tossed aside the toe separators, grateful for the modern miracle of quick-drying nail polish. She stepped into the bathroom and shrugged out of her robe.



She unhooked the dress off the back of the door, basic black velvet to the floor, but with a surprise slit up the leg, well past the knee. Zach liked her legs and she planned to drive the man as crazy with need as he'd made her a month ago. She eased into the dress, gliding it up her body and imagining how it would feel sliding down later.



As much as she wanted time alone with him, she was actually looking forward to the evening out, for more than just the chance to torment him a bit. Her circle of friends had widened into a community she'd never realized existed beyond the handful of crew members she'd known through Lance—like the families she'd met in the new base support group led by Rena Price, a loadmaster's wife.



Unfurling sheer black stockings, Julia rolled them over her legs. Her life was back on track. She'd made her peace with Lance's death, or as much as she believed she ever could. She intended to make the most of what life had to offer her now with Zach. For however long they were together.



Seize the moment.



And Zach.



Yeah, she definitely had plans for seizing Zach.



The doorbell pealed through the house. Julia glanced at the clock. Zach should be landing right about now. Her heart stuttered once. Most crashes occurred during takeoffs and landings.



No. She wouldn't go there. The twinge of fear was just that, only a twinge. She would probably never completely eradicate the fear of losing someone she...cared about. But she wouldn't let fear rob her of anything more. She'd faced the worst and survived. Whatever else was waiting for her behind that door, she could handle.



Julia scooped Patrick onto her hip and walked with sure steps to the hall just as Ivy jerked open the front door. Silhouetted in the entryway stood the last person Julia expected to see and the very person guaranteed to threaten what little peace they'd all found over the past months.



Pam.



The woman's perfume preceded her.



Sleek black hair swinging forward, the mother of Zach's children threw her arms wide. A Godiva bag dangled from her wrist as she gathered Ivy close. "Hey, sugar baby. Mama's home for your recital."



* * *



Almost home.  The C-17 landing gear skimmed the runway just as the sun dipped into the horizon. Zach nailed the brakes, two days late and suffering from a near-lethal case of get-home-itis.



"Charleston control," he clipped into the headset mike, "Reach two-three-five-six is on the deck at fourteen past the hour. Duration, eight point nine. Fuel on board twelve thousand. Aircraft's code one." Nothing broken, not even another damned indicator light.



The maintenance debrief would be a speedy ten minutes in and out before he could sprint home to change for the squadron Valentine's function.



And to see his wife.



Anticipation fired through him.



Park the plane first, pal.



He guided the aircraft from the runway to the hammerhead and idled the engines.



"Tower, Reach two-three-five-six is clear of the active runway. Switching to ground control."



Zach nodded for the pilot sitting behind him in the instructor's seat to run the final checklist clean-up. Follow procedure. Keep everything reined in.



Captain Nola Seabrook behind him and Lieutenant Darcy Renshaw in the copilot's seat beside him exchanged the checklist call and response.



Multitasking was a must for any commander, and this TDY had offered the chance to address three concerns along with completing the core mission. He'd finished the requalification for veteran pilot Seabrook, ensuring she was back up to speed after her lengthy medical leave.



Then came the problem with Renshaw. Something was eating the young lieutenant, and she was too set on proving herself to the rest of the squadron to share. He hoped Renshaw would find a mentor in the unflappable Seabrook.



And he'd come close to accomplishing his most important task the past month—retracing the steps of Lance Sinclair's fatal flight. Zach knew in his gut something had gone wrong in the South American control tower.



With luck, the flight next week would prove just that, with the help of those who knew Lance Sinclair's flying habits best, those he crewed with most often—Tanner Bennett and Jim Price. Even Gray Clark had flown in with his family from Washington the night before to crew on the upcoming mission.



Only a week more and Zach could finally close that file once and for all.



Seabrook snapped the checklist shut and tucked it in her oversized black flight bag. "All clear."



"Roger, Captain." Zach nodded. "Renshaw, how about taking over and calling us into the parking area."



Thirty minutes later, he climbed into his truck. The past month, the sound of Julia's voice on the phone had left him so damned hard, no way would he torture himself with long-distance discussions of sex. They'd kept conversations superficial.