Guardian Page 2

  Deep creases fanned from the corners of his silvery blue eyes, attesting to a combination of years in the sun and ready laughter. His skin was a hint lighter where his mustache had been, drawing her attention back to his mouth. He wasn’t smiling now.

  Berg exuded the confidence of a man comfortable in his skin, his appeal making her distinctly uncomfortable in her own.

  Sophie resisted the urge to tuck her thumb in the waistband of her skirt. Already snug, her uniform tightened as he narrowed the distance between them. She resolved, yet again, to eliminate midnight ice-cream sprees until she could afford to buy a larger size. He probably didn’t even know how to count fat grams.

  The hungry heat returned…and she didn’t crave a pint of rocky road.

  The last thing she wanted was some obstinate aviator cluttering her mind. She finally had her life on track, and she didn’t intend to risk her hard-won independence simply because of a fleeting bout of hormonal insanity.

  Level with her, Berg hesitated. His six feet four inches dwarfed her five feet three. Five four if she added the minimal lift of her shoes.

  Even when not in uniform, she’d always disdained high heels, maintaining they gave her the look of a child playing dress-up. At that moment, she would have plea-bargained two gallons of rocky road for a pair of Tina Turner spikes.

  Steel-blue eyes pinned her for one slow blink before Berg shoved through the swinging wooden rail and out of the courtroom.

  * * *

  Major David “Ice” Berg cared about two things above all else: his daughter and his job.

  Steamed by more than the Nevada sun, David leaned against the exterior wall by the front entrance of the courthouse. At least Haley Rose was settled with his sister for the afternoon.

  Five minutes alone with Major Sophie Campbell to straighten the facts, and his world would be in order. With one of his tester’s careers in the balance, he couldn’t just walk away.

  A hand clapped him on the back. He jolted, hard and fast.

  Two buds from his test squadron stood behind him—Jimmy Gage and Vince Deluca. Last week, both had returned from a six-month rotation overseas taking the test unit’s newest modifications to the spy drone fleet. So they weren’t a part of the test project in question; however, they’d both come over to lend their support in court.

  Vince grinned. “Need help going to the bathroom?”

  The bulky, tattooed biker looked scary as hell, even in his flight suit, but was the biggest marshmallow in the unit. However, his humor wasn’t welcome at the moment.

  “Shit, not funny, Deluca.”

  “If you’re you, maybe, but for us?” Vince punched Jimmy Gage on the arm. “Funny as hell.”

  Jimmy was the unit’s all-around good guy, the kind of bud who could be counted on to back you up in a bar fight. “I see a call-sign change in your future. Instead of ‘Ice,’ you could be ‘Charmin.’”

  “Or ‘John.’”

  “What about ‘Whizzer,’ like ‘Wizard’?”

  Vince snorted. “There’s a reason we always send you to buy the keg while the rest of us choose the names.”

  “Jackass,” Jimmy muttered.

  Vince thumped his chest, right over his heart. “I feel the love.”

  David wished he could be as easygoing about this, but his thoughts just stayed with the kid that had been injured from the accident. This couldn’t be a random accident, because then it could too easily happen again. He needed a cause and he needed for that cause not to be one of his people. “Thanks, dudes, I appreciate your support in there today.”

  “We’ll be celebrating the end of this nightmare soon. We’ll have a big party to welcome Tater back on flying status.”

  “Roger that,” David said. “Beer’s on me.”

  Jimmy adjusted his hat. “Sounds like a plan.” He turned to Vince. “Let’s catch up with Tate over there before I head out.”

  Caleb “Tater” Tate stood under a palm tree with his lawyers, military and civilian. The young captain hung his head, listening to whatever his dream team was telling him.

  Vince glanced at David. “Wanna come along?”

  “Can’t, but thanks,” David answered. “I need to finish up some business here, then I need to get home to the munchkin. Catch you later.”

  He watched his two crew-dog buddies cross the parking lot to Captain Tate. Even when they cleared his name—and they would—the fallout from this would follow him. Somehow, the test process had to have gone wrong. But God, a test project often took years to complete. The boss had tapped Berg to step in to oversee the project four months ago, only a month before the accident happened. And yeah, he’d been sent in because the program wasn’t moving along as quickly as higher-ups wanted.

  Sophie Campbell had been right on that point. But she was wrong in believing he would condone any corner cutting. And he’d been working his ass off reviewing every old record on the test to find any error—be it from the civilian contractors or military testers.

  Which meant more late hours when he already didn’t see his kid enough.

  He brought home any paperwork and files that weren’t classified. But there just weren’t enough hours in the day.

  He glanced at his watch, impatient from waiting in the heat, drier than his South Carolina home state’s humidity, but a scorcher of a day all the same. He still had to pick up Haley Rose from his sister’s. Single parenthood left him with little time to waste.

  What’s taking the lady JAG so long?

  Jumbled voices swelled through the opening doors. Masses poured out and divided, easing down the courthouse stairs like the gush from an emptying aqueduct. Bluebirds feeding on the patchy lawn scattered, clearing a path. No sign of her.

  David pushed away from the warm wall and jogged down the steps, exhaling his frustration. He would have to take a long lunch tomorrow and track her down, which would make him late picking up his daughter for the second time in a week. Crap.

  He cut a path across the scraggly lawn. He glanced back just as Sophie stepped through the door with one of the other lawyers from her office. Her boss maybe? A kick of possessiveness shot through him. Unwanted. Unwelcome. And damn stupid. It wasn’t as if they were acting like a couple. She paused for a moment to put on her hat before the other guy took off, leaving her standing alone.

  Yeah, he was relieved and staring. He braced for the inevitable whammy—that wallop to his libido that came every time he looked at her.

  Long ago, he’d learned to harness his reaction to her. From the first time he’d come across her, eighteen months ago during a deposition on another case, he had wanted her. The glint of her wedding band had sparked regret. Not to mention he’d been in the middle of a hellacious divorce.

  Her marital status may have changed along with his, but her posh lakeside neighborhood remained the same. He didn’t need any further incentive than that to resist her. Encounters focused solely on work offered security from temptation.

  Sophie hurried down the steps, her pencil-straight uniform skirt hitching higher up her leg. Her legs had driven him close to crazy during his stint on the witness stand. And when his eyes traveled upward to the best set of curved hips in the free world?

  A man could lose himself in her softness.

  Her sun-streaked blond hair was swept back into some kind of twist. Not for the first time, David imagined pulling out the pins and sliding the silky texture between his fingers. Her light hair contrasted with her golden glow, deep brown eyes, lightly tanned skin.

  Tan lines.

  Shit.

  He knew the minute she saw him. Her gaze went from open to distant in a snap.

  “Major Berg,” she acknowledged before charging past.

  Ego stinging, he watched her hips twitch in her brisk walk as she left him in the dust. His whole body throbbed from viewing only two inches of skin above her knee, and she barely noticed him. Her dismissal bothered him more than usual because he really needed to speak with her.

&
nbsp; A good swift reality kick reminded him of his reason for seeking her out, and he resolved to take comfort from the chill of her greeting.

  “Major,” David called, catching her in three strides. “Wait a minute.”

  “I haven’t got a minute.” Sophie tossed the words over her shoulder without meeting his gaze.

  “Make time.”

  She took two shorter, quick steps for his every long stride. “Call my secretary for an appointment.”

  “Hold on!” He gripped her arm and tugged her to a halt. “If I’d wanted an appointment, I wouldn’t have spent the last hour waiting.”

  The combined force of her sudden stop and spin to face him brought them a whisper apart. The simple act of touching her for the first time sent blood surging well below the belt.

  Down, boy.

  David unclenched his hand, allowing himself a brief trail down Sophie’s sleeve as he released her. A bubble of privacy wrapped around him, as it had during the moment on the witness stand when she’d leaned a bit too close.

  A hint of uncertainty crossed her face before she stepped back. “This better be important.”

  “It is.”

  “You have exactly two minutes.” She checked her watch, late-day sun glinting off the faceplate. “I’m late picking up my son.”

  He gestured toward the corner of the building, away from the crowd. “Let’s step over here in the shade.”

  Following her, he almost cupped his hand to the middle of her back. Sophie stopped to face him just in time to prevent him from making that colossal mistake. Sophie Campbell was a JAG, an officer in the same air force he served. The Bronze Star on her uniform proved she was more than just someone sporting a bunch of “I was there” ribbons. Right now, he wanted to know how she’d gotten that Bronze Star as much as he wanted to know the taste of her.

  “One minute left, Major Berg.”

  Right. “We need to talk about your line of questioning upstairs.”

  “Do you have something to add to your testimony?”

  “No.”

  “Then we have nothing to discuss.” She moved to dart around him.

  David braced a hand against a sprawling eucalyptus tree, blocking her escape. “I feel bad for that injured kid—Ricky—and for his family, too. Aside from how damn tragic the whole thing is, Dr. Vasquez has got to be swamped with his son’s medical bills on the salary of an untenured assistant professor. I’d like to help the kid win a hefty settlement, but I can’t. You’re on the wrong track.”

  “Major Berg…”

  “Cut it out, Sophie. We’re not in the courtroom.” So much for keeping matters impersonal.

  “This isn’t accomplishing anything. If you have something concrete to discuss, come to my office, and we can meet in a more…professional setting.” Her gaze skittered away from his. “David, I really can’t do this today.”

  He concurred on that point at least. “Am I supposed to wait around until you can fit me into your schedule?”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  “No good. I don’t feel much like playing tag team with your voice mail.”

  Sophie watched undisguised frustration wrinkle David Berg’s brow as he barred her exit. She needed to leave. Now. Rather than diminishing, the tingling she’d felt earlier had increased to something resembling a third-degree sunburn.

  Much longer with him and she might launch herself at him like a sex-starved woman. Which, of course, she was, even if she hadn’t realized it until an hour ago.

  Sexual attraction. That’s all it is, just a natural, physical reaction. After a nap and some ice cream, she would be fine. The reasonable explanation calmed her. As a normal, healthy woman, of course her body would inevitably react to enforced abstinence. She could push aside the unwanted attraction long enough to talk with him, for the good of her case.

  “All right, I would like to go over a couple of points in the incident report. But I honestly don’t have time this afternoon.”

  David’s hand pressed to the tree trunk brushed mere inches beside her cheek. His heat reached to her like a furnace blasting on an already hundred-plus-degree day.

  He shifted, his knee bent, his shoulders angling closer. “What if I meet you tomorrow for lunch?”

  The offer tempted her. Hell, the man tempted her. She tried to focus on his tie instead of the flecks of steel in his blue eyes.

  The rows and rows of tiny rectangular ribbons on his uniform jacket drew her eyes. An image of her father in his uniform came to mind, so vivid she could almost smell the flowers in the funeral parlor when she’d seen her father wearing it for the last time.

  Time to leave before she did something totally off the chain—like cry. “Your two minutes are up. Stop by my office after court tomorrow.”

  Sophie ducked under his arm in an attempt to escape his appeal.

  Two cracks sounded.

  David slammed into her, tackling her. Her briefcase flew from her grip.

  Another pop. A gunshot? No time to question. Her head smacked the rocky earth as David Berg’s body blanketed hers.

  TWO

  Sparks flashed behind her eyelids, her head throbbing from smacking the ground. Sophie gripped David’s uniform jacket as if holding him tighter could make them both less of a target. Shots and sirens blasted through the air, rivaling the sound of her heart hammering in her ears. Or was that David’s pulse?

  Or even theirs combined, linked like their bodies tangled up together.

  Machine gun fire sounded, followed by an explosion that reverberated like a hand grenade. The acrid scent of shots and smoke stung her nose. Only a few months ago, an airman had opened fire on a hangar full of deploying troops. Could lightning be striking twice on this same base?

  Her world darkened by the press of him around her. David’s honed muscles tensed against her as she braced herself for another shot to rip through the air. To tear into her body. And at that moment, everything else faded but thoughts of her son. If something happened to her, he would be orphaned, with no one but her elderly grandmother to care for him.

  She’d been all too aware of the possibility since the day Brice was born—she wore a military uniform, after all. She could protect herself. But she’d always thought if the worst happened, it would be in combat. She’d originally planned to make a career of the air force. But after her husband died, she’d put in her paper to get out once her commitment was up. Finally, she was only weeks away from being a civilian.

  Their mixed heartbeats seemed louder as her mind allowed her to close off the battle sounds in the distance, to rein in her fear. Her senses went on high alert, taking in David’s crisp scent that pushed away the sting of smoke. The heat of him blanketed her with total man. And how completely insane was it to be scared as hell and turned on all at once? Her hunger and fear feasted on the adrenaline surging through her.

  His warm, rangy body stayed pressed against her. Too easily, she could savor all those buried yearnings. Was it her imagination, or did David inch his face closer as if he might…

  She felt David shift over her. Looking? Assessing? She couldn’t see past the bulk of his shoulders.

  “Shit,” he hissed, levering upward. “They just started an exercise down the street.”

  An exercise?

  Of course it was. Security cops had stepped up practicing for unexpected attacks on a base, and it wasn’t as if such exercises only happened during nine-to-five timelines.

  Relief all but melted her into the sandy ground.

  Now that David had inched upward, she looked past his broad shoulders and saw the signs posted two blocks away announcing the exercise—what appeared to be practice storming a building. At least she wasn’t the only one who’d freaked out. At least a half dozen other people had run for cover and were now easing from around trees and back to their feet.

  Even knowing others had been surprised as well, she still wondered how she’d missed the alert signs when she was talking to David. Although he hadn
’t noted them either, and that unsettled her even more than her own distraction.

  If he felt the same attraction…

  “Uh, David?” she whispered his name, then damn, damn, damn, realized she should have called him Berg, or Major, to establish distance. And was that funny as hell considering how close they were now? His leg pressed intimately between hers, a sweet pressure against a deep ache. “Do you think you can get off me now?”

  His blue eyes went stormy for a second before he blinked all expression away.

  “Yeah, right.” He rolled to the side and sat up. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine, thanks.” She breathed deeply to chase off a light-headedness that had little to do with hitting the ground and everything to do with the man beside her. She sucked in another gasp and realized…Oh God. It was too easy to breathe deeply. Her hand shot to her waist and…

  Damn it.

  Her too-tight skirt had popped a button. The absurdity of it all hit her. She laughed. And laughed more, letting the laughter just flow as she sprawled on her back staring up at the Nevada sky. Yeah, she was on the verge of hysteria, strung too tight from a year of sheer hell.

  “Sophie?” He gripped her shoulders and eased her up to sit. “What’s wrong?”

  Other than just about everything in her life?

  Her laughter faded. She swallowed back the urge to cry and focused on how to get to her feet without losing her skirt or having to fess up to popping out of her clothes. She pressed a hand to her waist, winged a prayer, and stood.

  Thank God, the zipper held.

  Her knees, however, didn’t. David caught Sophie by the upper arms. His fingers wrapped around as he kept her from melting to the pavement. She let him help since everything around her still blurred together, certainly not because his touch felt impossibly good. She must have hit her head harder than she’d thought.

  “Easy now.” Frowning, he glanced over his shoulder at a bench. “Maybe you should sit. Are you all right?”