Rhona’s breath caught. She had been sleeping against Nolan. For how long, she didn’t know. What she did realize was that sometime during the night, she’d found her way over to his side of the tent. Embarrassment flooded her, and yet her heart was beginning to slowly pound in anticipation. Nolan wanted to kiss her. She’d recognize that look anywhere, despite the fact that right now, her mind was fuzzy and half-asleep.
She was never any good the first hour after waking up. It was tough to put things together right now. How had she ended up here? In his arms? Mind spinning, Rhona realized that he hadn’t pushed her back to her side of the tent, either. No, his left arm was beneath her neck, cradling her head. And his right arm was stretched across her, his hand resting firmly on her hip to keep her close to him. Stunned, she lay there looking up at him, speechless. So many wonderful emotions spilled out of her heart toward him. The look of a predator lingered in his eyes. Nolan wanted her. All of her.
Those realizations shot through Rhona like a bolt of lightning. She lay there barely breathing, snared by his glittering green eyes. Her gaze moved slowly downward…to that strong, male mouth curved boyishly in a slight, one-cornered smile. It wasn’t a smile that said I’ve got you. No, it was a smile of welcome—welcoming her into his arms to share this exquisite moment that neither had expected or conspired to create.
Her feelings running rampant, Rhona ached to reach out and kiss him. The invitation was there. Nolan wanted her. Did she want him? Yes. Yes, she did. In the worst way. There was something primal about Nolan, and yet at the same time he made her feel safe. Safe. No man had ever made her feel like this, until now.
Suddenly all the reasons why she shouldn’t kiss him, why she should back out of his arms and give him a lame apology, exploded within Rhona. Yet as she drowned in the warm invitation burning in his green eyes, all those thoughts dissipated. Rhona was afraid. She’d sworn never to fall in love with a man from the military again. After her last painful experience, she’d never even wanted to look at another one—until Nolan came waltzing brazenly into her life, rocking her steady world. Oh! How many times in the cockpit did she steal a sly glance at his rugged profile and want to kiss that mouth of his?
Well, here was her chance. Should she take it? What would the cost be? Rhona groaned inwardly. Sometimes she wished her mind wasn’t always counseling her and she could simply listen to her heart, which was pumping powerfully with joy right now.
Throwing all her cautiousness out the door, Rhona lifted her hand, sliding it up the side of Nolan’s jaw. Her fingertips prickled because he hadn’t shaved yet, and the sensation was wonderful to her. His eyes became slits. His arm tightened around her, claiming her.
Lips parting, Rhona whispered, “Nolan…I’m afraid….”
His smile deepened as he caught her hand, turned it over and pressed a warm, lingering kiss into the palm. “So am I, darlin’. Scared to death.” And he lifted his head and gazed directly into her eyes.
Nolan saw the desire for him in her wide gray eyes. It made him feel good and strong as a man. Rhona was his equal, and it was so exciting and new to be with a woman who was his true equal that he forgot his normal hesitancy. Tucking her hand between them, her palm against his chest, he whispered, “Let’s be scared together….” And he leaned down…down, to seek and find her lips.
Moaning softly, Rhona shut her eyes and lifted her face to meet his descending mouth. Yes. This was the most right thing in the world to her in a world gone mad. His lips brushed hers tentatively in that scalding, heated moment, then moved with slow deliberation across hers, tasting her, feeling her, exploring her. He was introducing himself to her.
Nolan’s kiss was agonizingly, beautifully slow as he ran his tongue across her lower lip. Rhona sighed, pressed herself wantonly against him to let him know how much she wanted, needed him, woman to man. She felt him smile against her opening lips—a very male smile filled with confidence and certainty. Her heart exploded violently with long-held emotions. As his mouth claimed hers in a swift, urgent coupling, she moaned and surrendered herself in all ways to Nolan.
The moment his mouth captured hers, Rhona’s tidy little world shattered around her. She felt his strong, lean hand move confidently down her spine and come to settle against her hip. Even though the sleeping bags were bunched between them, she could feel his need of her as he brought her hard against his hips. Her breasts pressed against his well-sprung chest. Sliding her arm across his torso, Rhona pulled Nolan tightly against her. Their mouths were hungry, obsessed, their breathing ragged and on fire.
As his left arm lifted her head upward, to position her more fully against his hungry mouth, Rhona felt as if she were heated water flowing against the hard rock of Nolan’s body. Her skin tingled wildly where his breath flowed across her cheek. As his hand slid upward, ranging across the thick folds of her sleeping bag and grazing her covered breast, which was taut with need, she moaned. For a moment, her mouth separated from his, but not for long.
“Come here,” he whispered darkly, seeking her wet lips once more.
His voice vibrated through her. Dizziness swept Rhona as he rocked her lips open, plunging her into a scalding vat of boiling desire. Heat flooded her lower body. Aching to have him, to claim him in every way, Rhona released the last of her hesitation. Every second of life was precious. Every second should be lived. She’d heard that so many times from her wise Navajo mother. For in the next second, life could be ripped away, and a person would never know what was lost through hesitation. Yes, life was to be lived in the moment. Well, she was going to do that now, with Nolan.
The moments spun like superheated fragments of red-hot lava violently exploding out of a volcano as their seeking, searching mouths devoured each other. When his hand ranged up to her face, his strong fingers brushing her cheek, Rhona wanted to cry at the tenderness of his gesture. Nolan was commanding, strong, and yet at the same time incredibly gentle with her. He wanted her participation, coaxed it out of her, and together they enjoyed one another in a way she’d never experienced before with any man.
Slowly, agonizingly so, Nolan pulled away from Rhona’s warm, hungry mouth. He didn’t want to break off their kiss, yet knew he must. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized they were late getting up. And if they didn’t stop…
“We’ve got to stop,” he said huskily against her mouth, kissing her one last time…and aching to do so much more than just that with her. Opening his eyes, he drowned in Rhona’s slumberous gaze. The urgency to love her thoroughly, to claim her savagely as his woman, was nearly Nolan’s undoing.
“I don’t want to…but we’ve got to,” he rasped, his voice unsteady. Sliding his fingers through her unbound hair, he drew away from her slightly. Rhona’s cheeks were suffused with a rose-pink flush, her breath coming quickly, her lips parted and begging him to kiss her one more time. Nolan didn’t dare, or he’d strip her out of that sleeping bag and take her. Now. Here. And to hell with the reality of what lay outside the little tent they shared. A huge part of him wanted to throw responsibility out the door, but he knew he couldn’t. Not yet…not now.
“Y-yes,” Rhona quavered. She tore her gaze from his. “I don’t want to, but I will….”
Laughing a little, Nolan released her so that she could sit up and move back to her side of the tent. Her hair tumbled down around her shoulders like a wild ebony brook. Aching to love her, he sat up and simply watched as she raised her slender hands, sliding her fingers through those tresses to tame them into some semblance of order.
Looking at his watch, he said sadly, “It’s 0520. We’re going to be late if we don’t get on it. We’re due at Ops at 0545….”
“I know,” Rhona murmured, fumbling for the small plastic case that held her brush and comb.
“Wait….” Nolan reached out as she gripped her toiletry case. His hand closed over her arm and turned her toward him. Her eyes widened with surprise at his unexpected gesture.
“I’m not sorry thi
s happened, Rhona,” Nolan said in a deep voice. “I just want you to know that….” And then he released her. Nolan didn’t want to, but to touch her was like getting burned, consumed with a flame of desire that ate him alive. He watched the blush deepen on her cheeks. Her lashes moved down and she hung her head for a moment. And then she lifted her chin and looked at him.
“I’m not sorry either, Nolan.”
Nodding, he managed a thin smile. “Good. You know, I woke up hours ago, thinking I was dreaming of you in my arms, and you were really there.”
Rhona wanted these precious few minutes with him, wanted to talk honestly and privately. But time was pushing them. People were thirsty and starving out there, and she knew she and Nolan had to get moving soon. Breathless, she whispered, “I must have turned over in the night. I was cold….”
“I know.”
“I didn’t even realize I’d done it….”
“I’m glad you did. Maybe we’re all more primitive than we realize.” He grinned slightly. “The cold made you seek warmth. Me.”
Managing a strained laugh, Rhona unzipped her toiletry case and quickly ran her brush, and then her comb, through her hair. A wolflike look came to Nolan’s eyes as he sat there watching her. “I can’t explain it,” she murmured, embarrassed. “I don’t even remember doing it.”
“I kinda liked it.”
Rhona paused, her comb suspended above her head momentarily. In the grayish light, Nolan’s face was carved with light and shadow. The darkness of his unshaved face gave him a new, dangerous quality that made her heart skitter. He would be a strong, wonderful lover, she knew. The hunger and need for that kind of care, that kind of love, was nearly her undoing.
“I did, too.”
“You don’t play games, do you?”
She put the brush and comb away and quickly took out the pins to put her hair into a French roll. “No, I never did.”
“Neither do I.” Nolan shrugged. “Maybe because I had a sweetheart from high school on, and then married her, I never got into game playing.”
Putting the finishing touches on her hair, Rhona reached down near the flap of the tent and grabbed her unlaced flight boots. Nolan was doing the same. He felt the responsibility of time, too, and knew they had to get to the revetment area to fly their first load of supplies out on schedule. Their personal life, their needs, were strictly secondary to the disaster around them. A fierce emotion, one Rhona was afraid to name, swept through her as she watched him slide out of the sleeping bag and put his boots on.
“We need to hurry,” she said, unzipping her own bag. “Maybe we can talk more during the flights?”
“Yeah,” Nolan said, lacing up his boots with a familiar expertise, “I’d like that, Rhona.” Then he pinned her with a look that made her freeze. “I’d like to know about you, the woman. About your growing up years, your life….”
Mouth dry, Rhona stared at him. Forcing herself to move, she quickly grabbed her flak jacket, which she had folded and put in a corner of the tent. Fear galvanized her. Was she ready for a relationship? How could she be? Her heart was leaping with such joy she could barely think straight. And yet she was afraid to put a name to what she felt toward Nolan. He was a marine. She’d already had the worst wounding of her life from a military pilot. Could she afford to try again? Rhona wasn’t sure.
Her hands shook as she laced her boots. Fear took over. The time to live life in the moment had come and gone. Did she have the courage it took to reach out and try again? And how could she be feeling so much so fast? Nolan had fought with her from the day they’d met, and now they’d just enjoyed the most beautiful, tender kisses Rhona had ever shared with a man.
What was happening? Her well-ordered world was suddenly tumbling out of control. The earthquake had shattered much of it. And now Nolan’s hot, caressing mouth had completely dismantled her heart and soul.
Eight
January 11: 0745
The sun coming through the Plexiglas was bright as they flew back from area six on their first mission of the day. Nolan had asked her to fly, and Rhona reveled in the new energy that pulsed between them in the cockpit. Ever since those breath-stealing, soul-feeding kisses this morning, she couldn’t stop happiness from bubbling up in her heart. And judging from the lessened tension on Nolan’s darkly handsome face, Rhona realized that the kiss had been healing for him as well. The relaxed atmosphere in the cockpit was new and welcoming. This was the way it should be between pilot and copilot; there was an ease between them, a space where they could both let down their guard despite the strains and stresses going on around them. They could rely on and trust one another.
Nolan finished writing a report on the clipboard on his knees. He looked up and smiled at Rhona. “Señor Gonzalez looked pretty happy this morning, didn’t he?”
Just the warmth in Nolan’s voice sent a thread of desire vibrating through Rhona. Glancing briefly in his direction, she smiled back at him. How wonderful it was to smile with Nolan! “Yes, he was. That first load was medicine, and they have some very sick people who desperately need the supplies we gave them.”
“It’s surprising how much the basics of life mean when you suddenly have them all taken away, you know? You can’t pick up the phone and call a doc now. Or call in a prescription. No phone lines. No way to get to the doc even if you had a phone.” Shaking his head, Nolan placed the aluminum cover over the clipboard and stowed it behind his seat. All he wanted to do was look at Rhona, absorb her into his joyous heart and singing soul. Her eyes were tender and vulnerable this morning—more than ever before—and Nolan felt grateful. He was going to try and take care not to hurt her or make her close up, as he’d done in the past.
“Even the few homes left standing are too unsteady to enter. And it’s dangerous to climb into the rubble to try and find even a bottle of aspirin,” she agreed sadly. The day was dawning clear and bright. It was cool outside since the front had come through, and the sky pale blue and cloudless. Thankfully, she could drop her dark visor to shield her eyes from the strong rays of the rising sun on the eastern horizon.
She glanced at Nolan once more. His profile was strong and clean. And his mouth…She sighed inwardly. All she could think about was kissing that mouth of his again. Gently, Rhona pushed those thoughts away, because they had no business here in the cockpit. Flying was a full-time job. She couldn’t afford to be daydreaming.
“Did you hear Señor Gonzalez talking about his daughter Consuelo?” Nolan asked. “She’s pregnant.”
Shaking her helmeted head, Rhona moved her gaze across the control panel. “No, I hadn’t heard. Is everything okay with the baby?”
“Are you having some kind of woman’s intuition?” he asked, surprised at her insight.
“About what? Is she in trouble with the pregnancy?”
“She’s eight months along. I guess she’s having labor pains and it’s too soon. Señor Gonzalez asked me if we could take her to Camp Reed.”
“The hospital is overflowing with patients,” Rhona said.
“Yeah, it’s a damned if you do and damned if you don’t situation.”
“You look like a man with a plan, if I’m reading you right,” she said, her gaze flickering briefly toward him. She chuckled.
“Yeah, I’m hatching a plan as we speak,” he said pensively.
“Well,” Rhona replied teasingly, “I’m not going to be the one to say you can’t scheme, Galway.”
“Yeah, I schemed to get you and look what happened,” he said provocatively. Watching Rhona’s cheeks color, he squelched the very real urge to reach out and brush her skin gently. She was bringing out that tender, vulnerable side of himself, but with her, it felt good. And more surprising, he felt safe doing it.
“You schemed,” she snorted, laughing. “Remember? It was me who rolled over in the night, unawares. You didn’t haul me into your arms, Lieutenant. I came over to you. Gosh, you’ve got an awfully short memory. Is that because of your male pride? Or were
you having a senior moment? Hmm?”
Nolan chuckled, enjoying bantering with Rhona. She was sharp and thought on her feet. Rubbing his jaw, he watched the ground far below them. As always, the shuddering of the helo felt good to him, like a mother’s arms rocking him. “Well, maybe I did have it all wrong. You did the scheming, it seems….”
Making a squawking noise of protest, Rhona tipped her head back and laughed deeply. “Let it not be said you can’t play the game like a pro!” She chortled.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” The words came flying out of his mouth. He saw their impact instantly in Rhona’s face. She gaped at him momentarily, caught herself, then devoted her attention strictly to flying.
“More Irish charm by the gallon being dolled out here, Galway?” she teased. He thought she was beautiful. Her heart mushroomed with such happiness that Rhona didn’t know what to do. For the moment, all she could manage was sitting in the seat and absorbing his husky compliment. Then she remembered the look she’d seen in his eyes when he’d said the words—those eyes, those eyes that spoke so eloquently. Green, narrowed and filled with desire—for her. Gulping, Rhona felt tongue-tied. She was twenty-eight years old! She shouldn’t be feeling like an uncertain teenage girl.
“Ahh,” Nolan whispered wickedly, “my Irish charm is more than just word games, darlin’.” Enjoying the high blush that stained her cheeks a soft red, Nolan reached out and slid his hand across her shoulders for just a moment.
The friction of his gloved hand gliding caressingly across the top of her flak jacket created a tingling sensation. Once he moved his hand away, she saw him sit back in his seat with a smile that was pure male. Obviously he was very pleased with himself and how he affected her.
Ride the Thunder Page 10
