“You okay, Erin?” he asked.
“Fine, John.”
“What happened?” He took a chair opposite.
Erin stared dismally down at her lap. “I—I panicked,” she admitted hoarsely. “And I feel so stupid.”
Ty’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Don’t apologize,” he told her. “You’d be surprised to know you aren’t the only one who has panicked in there. Right, Colonel?”
McIntire sighed and rubbed his hands along his thighs. “Yes, that’s true. Usually they’re civilians, Erin. We’ve seen guys jump up and tear the air hose off the mask, trying to get out of there. Some of them have a nasty case of claustrophobia. Others can’t take the mask. You’ve done better than most. Ty and his people will walk you through the mock routine up at Sawyer. Just remember to remain calm and trust the instructions. You’ve passed the necessary training. I’ll have the card for you in just a few minutes, and then Ty will take you back to the hotel to rest.”
Erin drew in an unsteady breath, thankful for Ty’s closeness. “I feel so tired,” she confided.
“That’s a very normal reaction,” McIntire reassured her. “For about twenty-four hours you’re going to feel washed out. Just rest, drink plenty of water or fruit juice and get some sleep.”
“What I need is a drink,” she muttered, her nerves raw.
McIntire rose, grinning. “Take a drink now and you’ll be higher than a kite. The chamber experience makes drinking alcoholic beverages off-limits for at least a day. Stick with Ty and he’ll help you readjust through this uncomfortable period.” After giving her another reassuring pat on the back, John left them. Erin placed her coffee cup on the table and buried her head in her hands. “I feel like such an utter fool, Ty.”
“Come on. Let’s get you back to the hotel,” he urged, standing. He took her arm, helping her to her feet. “I’ll come back later and pick up the paperwork for you,” he murmured.
The sun was shining brightly and the wind caressed Erin’s face as they walked to the car. She relished walking out into the sunlight, away from the sterile atmosphere of the chamber. Ty opened the car door for her and she slid in. The interior was warm and helped take away the last of her chill. Ty got in and glanced over at her, worry still creasing his face. “Maybe it would help to cry,” he observed soberly.
Erin lifted her chin to look at him, her lips parted and trembling at the husky tenor of his voice. His concern seemed so genuine. Tears welled, and she choked back a sob. “I—I almost drowned when I was twelve, Ty. That—that horrible chamber brought it all back.” Suddenly, she was sobbing uncontrollably. She heard him call her name, felt his arms going around her. Making no effort to stop him, she fell against his strong, lean body, and cried into his shoulder.
He soothed her with gentle words, tenderly stroking her hair. “My proud Irish lady,” he whispered, “don’t ever be afraid to cry.” He embraced her more tightly for a moment and then placed his fingers lightly beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. She felt tears streaming down her glistening cheeks as she opened her eyes. “Don’t ever be ashamed of crying, Erin. Most women can cry easily. What happened to you, my beautiful banshee witch?” He smiled tenderly, searching her upturned face. “Maybe it’s because you have dark hair instead of red hair.” He released her chin and brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.
Her heart soared with each feather-light graze of his hand against her skin. A growing warmth uncoiled within her and she continued to drink in his mesmerizing gaze. Her lips parted, and Ty frowned. Time seemed to hang suspended between them; the stillness felt magnified to a painful level. She was resting against his lean body, intensely aware of him as a man.
His arm tightened around her shoulder and Ty softly groaned her name, pulling her forward. Erin closed her eyes, leaning up to meet his strong mouth. She craved his touch. It brought her dormant desires to life and left her weak with need.
His mouth brushed her lips, tasting them, testing them. She sighed and relaxed within his arms, her hand curving instinctively around his neck. His mouth molded strongly against her lips, parting them, seeking entrance. His rough cheek against her flesh sent prickles of delight through her body. His breath, warm and moist, heightened her senses. His mouth moved against her lips, demanding yet gentle. It was a deep, long kiss, one of tentative, sensitive exploration.
Erin responded hungrily, instinctively realizing that Ty cared deeply for her. He wasn’t like many other men she knew. He played for keeps, not for a one-night stand or a brief fling. And in sensing that, Erin entrusted herself to him on a deep, elemental level.
Ty reluctantly broke contact with her mouth and studied her carefully, as if memorizing her upturned features. “I don’t want to stop,” he admitted thickly. He brushed her cheek with strong fingers and forced a slight smile to his lips. “You’re heady stuff, lady.”
Focusing on the fires burning brightly within her body, she couldn’t speak. She had never been kissed so thoroughly, so poignantly. It was as if he had put his whole heart and soul into that one act. In the past men had plundered her lips, almost assaulting her in a vain effort to convey their passion. But not Ty. Erin gazed somberly up at him, meeting his cobalt eyes. He had kissed her gently, with due respect for her needs and desires. What had he said before? That all she needed was a coaxing hand? His kiss had been scalding, a sharing between them. It had been filled with silent promises. Erin trembled inwardly, thinking of those thrilling possibilities with Ty.
She pulled away, unable to meet his curious, probing gaze any longer. Lowering her lashes, she murmured, “Please, take me back to the hotel.”
Ty leaned back, placing his hands on the steering wheel. “I’d like to take you home with me.”
She gasped and jerked her head up. He was serious.
Pain twisted through her.
“I’m thirty-two years old, Erin,” he said quietly, “and I learned a long time ago to be honest with a woman. It’s been a long time since anyone has affected me like you do.”
His husky voice vibrated with feeling, leaving her uncomfortable and excited at the same time. “You barely know me,” she whispered.
He scowled, watching her. “But I know myself. And I know what you’re doing to me.” He pursed his mouth, staring straight ahead, the minutes stretching by in tense silence.
“When I was handed this assignment, I complained a lot. I no more wanted to escort some antimilitary reporter around than take on a thirty-hour mission. And when I was told you were a woman, I damn near told the colonel to take his friendly suggestion and shove it. Now—”—he sighed and glanced over at her—”—my whole world has come to a stop. When I saw you getting off the plane, I thought how beautiful you were from a distance. I liked the way you walked with confidence. I like a woman who can stand on her own two feet and meet the world on her own terms. When you turned around, I damn near forgot everything—my reason for being there, everything. I was mesmerized by your blue eyes. Then when I sensed your immediate hatred of me and the air force, I was stunned.” Ty gave a helpless shrug. “I’m not really in the habit of facing off with a woman like I did with you, Erin. But the strength of your antagonism brought out the side of me that has to fight back.”
She clenched her hands tightly in her lap, her heart racing painfully. “I have a lot to apologize for, Ty,” she admitted hoarsely.
“I’m not telling you this to get an apology out of you, darlin’. I just want you to know where you stand with me. It may mean nothing to you.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “Hell, it could be totally one-sided. But the way you kissed me back…” His voice dropped to a rough whisper. “Damn, this is crazy. I want you to know I didn’t come down here intending to fall for you, Erin. It was the farthest thing from my mind. God knows I’ve got enough to worry about already with my duties with SAC. Escorting you was supposed to be a brief chore, rotten duty at best.” He shook his head, staring pensively out the window. “This wasn’t supposed t
o happen.”
She managed a rueful smile. “You’re right.”
“Reality isn’t built on supposed-to-bes.”
“Right again.”
“Look, Erin, you’ve been through plenty today without me laying my confessions on your doorstep. You look like you could use some sleep.”
She nodded, her mind fuzzy with exhaustion and her heart throbbing with a sweet, aching pain. Laying her head back against the seat, she closed her eyes. Within minutes she had slipped into a deep sleep.
Hearing her name being called, she moaned softly. Ty’s hand lingered on her shoulder and he gave her another gentle shake.
“We’re here, Erin,” he said softly. “I’d carry you in, but I’m afraid it would cause quite a stir.”
She forced her eyes open and sat up. Her dark hair spilled forward as she forced herself awake. “That’s all right,” she murmured huskily, her voice thick with sleep. “Just guide me in the general direction of my room. I’m so tired.”
“I know. Come on. I’ll do better than that.”
He helped her from the car, his arm sliding around her waist. She leaned gratefully against him, content to be within his embrace. He opened the door to her room and guided her to the bed. Leaving her sitting on the edge, he moved to the large windows and pulled the curtains closed. “Take your shoes off,” he said.
Erin did as she was asked, then pulled herself up on the bed and lay down. Exhaustion claimed her, and she closed her eyes. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard him open and close a closet door. Vaguely, she felt a blanket being thrown across her. He tucked it in around her shoulders and briefly stroked her hair.
“Go to sleep, darlin’,” Ty urged softly. It was the last thing she remembered before spiraling into the darkness.
4
Erin awoke near six the next morning. Feeling disoriented and uncomfortable from sleeping in her clothes, she opted for a hot bath to soak away her remaining fatigue. She changed into designer jeans and a silk blouse of pale apricot and brushed her hair vigorously until it shone. At last she felt ready to face the world. Her cell phone rang at eight.
“How do you feel after yesterday?” Ty asked.
A smile curved her lips, and she sat down on the edge of the bed. “Like I still have a hangover. It would be one thing if I’d caroused all night and deserved this agony.”
Ty laughed gently. “Going through the chamber is always rough.”
“Why didn’t somebody tell me that before?”
“What? And drag you into it kicking and screaming? No way. I tangled with you once, remember?”
“We’ll just have to call a truce,” she said amiably.
“Great. How about breakfast? Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Good. I’ll come by and pick you up. It’ll be just a few minutes.”
Erin shut off her cell and stared at it for a long time. She was buoyant. Before Ty called, she had felt listless. Frowning, she rose slowly to her full height of five eight. His voice had been warm and caressing over her iPhone, creating a sensuous tension between them, which she had responded to like a flower to sunshine.
After putting on a light dash of burgundy lipstick, she took stock of herself in the mirror.
She rarely took great pains with her appearance, but today she looked different, prettier. The image that stared back was one of a woman in her maturity. Even in jeans she looked elegantly sleek, the raw-silk blouse complementing her dusky-peach skin. Studying herself more closely, she noticed an extra sparkle dancing in the depths of her turquoise eyes. Ty had put that there.
At a light knock on the door, she went to open it after picking up her purse and a suede brown blazer. Ty’s open admiration made her feel like a giddy schoolgirl. He stood in the doorway in jeans and a pale blue short-sleeved shirt, his hands resting easily on his slim hips. “Lady, you are going to cause a riot up at Sawyer,” he said, his pleased gaze traveling the length of her body.
Erin laughed, feeling the heat of a blush sweep across her neck and face. “Me? Look at you! I don’t believe it. You look like a civilian!”
He grinned recklessly and helped her on with the blazer. As he drew her long hair from beneath the jacket, his fingers brushed against the nape of her neck. Her skin prickled pleasurably. He allowed the thick mane to cascade across her shoulders. “Beautiful hair,” he murmured, his hands resting lightly against her arms. He leaned closer and breathed in deeply. “You smell like a bouquet of flowers.”
“You’re awfully romantic today, Captain Phillips,” she returned lightly, though her pulse was racing. “Doesn’t that go against the image you usually project?” She left his embrace, turning and smiling up at him. He looked boyish and relaxed this morning.
He placed his hand in the small of her back and guided her toward the elevator. “Somewhere in between the two extremes is my reality, Erin.” He was suddenly serious. “We’re constantly training. Buff crews never get a break. We eat, live, sleep and fly together as a unit. Maybe ten days out of the month, the guys get to go home to their wives and kids.” He paused. “We live for the ORI, Organizational Readiness Inspection, and we have so many other tests to do besides that…” He shook his head. “If we aren’t being tested for our particular skills, we’re studying our fool heads off on new systems procedures and other complicated modes of operation.”
The elevator doors opened, and he ushered her in. She stayed close to him, wanting to be near his lean, male strength. She noticed his arms—they hadn’t an extra ounce of flesh. The play of muscles in them suggested that he either worked out with weights or that flying the Buff was much more physically demanding than she’d thought. As they padded down the carpeted hall toward the restaurant, she said, “I did want to know more about a Buff pilot’s lifestyle.”
Ty smiled lazily. “Believe me, if we find anyone who’s willing to listen, we’ll bend your ear.” He asked the dining room hostess to show them to a table near a window. Once they were seated, he ordered coffee for both of them.
“I guess reporters live on coffee just like we do,” he said.
Erin nodded. “I heard you and John McIntire discussing the pros and cons of having a beer after a mission,” she said.
“Just wait and see, darlin. After the mission, you’ll be heading to the refrigerator we have at the squadron just like the rest of us,” he promised, taking a sip of coffee.
“Why beer?” she asked.
“It releases you. After a ten-or twelve-hour mission, where you’re up at thirty-nine thousand and down on the deck at three hundred feet, you feel completely sapped. A beer after a mission seems to get rid of that fatigue and helps us relax.”
The waitress hovered nearby. Ty ordered for them and returned his full attention to Erin. His mood turned serious. “Are you due to take the noon flight back to New York?”
She nodded, realizing all at once that she didn’t want to go. The thought stunned Erin and she carefully set down her coffee cup. Ty Phillips seemed to wield some sort of emotional magic. Her stomach knotted, and she forced a smile she didn’t feel. “Yes, I’ll have to assemble all my notes and read through the rest of the literature that’s waiting for me back at my office.”
Ty picked up a fork and moved it around on the tablecloth in a distracted motion. “You’ll love the Upper Peninsula in October. Matter of fact, the autumn colors will be in full swing by the time you arrive.” He glanced up at her. “Ever been out in the country much?”
Erin rested her chin against her folded hands. “No, I’m a city girl through and through. And what’s the Upper Peninsula?”
“The upper half of Michigan. Too bad you aren’t driving up. You would cross the Mackinac Bridge, which connects lower and upper Michigan. It’s a beautiful bridge, and the view across the lakes is fantastic.”
“I think you Buff pilots see all things made of metal as beautiful,” she teased.
A slow smile brightened his expression. “What I see righ
t now is breathtaking,” Ty murmured, meeting and catching her startled glance.
She tried to recover from his compliment. “If all Buff pilots are as silver-tongued as you are, I’m in trouble.” She laughed.
He reached over, capturing her arm in a caressing gesture. “Take the compliment and say thank you, Erin.”
She colored fiercely. “You’re making me uncomfortable, Ty.”
“Good. I can see you haven’t been getting your share of compliments lately. What’s the matter with the guys back in the city?”
“Maybe they aren’t like Buff crews, who live in isolated areas and never see women,” she teased back.
Ty nodded. “You got that right. The Upper Peninsula isn’t exactly crowded with people. Most of the women up there are married.”
“Sounds like a chronic problem,” Erin agreed.
“That’s why most Buff crew members are married or get married pretty quickly. Going to a Northern Tier means being deprived of most outside activities, such as those you can usually find near a large city. It gets damn lonely, but sharing it with a wife and kids helps a lot.”
“You were married,” Erin blurted out, stunned that she had broached such a personal subject.
She held her breath, watching his face. A corner of his mouth pulled in, as if he felt a twinge of pain. Finally, he looked up, holding her widened gaze. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”
“That’s all right,” he interrupted. Ty leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Anne never adjusted to military life. She and I were married when I graduated from flight training. She was twenty-three at the time. Looking back on it, I can see that she was immature for her age. She had been overly protected by her parents, who were civilians. I requested Buff duty because it’s considered good background for attaining rank later on. My first assignment was at Minot, North Dakota.” He shrugged. “When you take a Southern woman who has never seen snow or experienced temperatures of thirty degrees below zero, and then take her husband away for days on end…well, you end up with a strained relationship,” he explained.
On Wings of Passion Page 5
