Charley stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean?”
Pete ignored her and waved to Misha, who was sitting near the water. The bike was parked beside the fountain and Charley’s kit bag lay at Misha’s feet. He dropped a kiss on her cheek and murmured his thanks. Misha gave her a quick hug before heading back to the hall.
“Oh no you don’t, Pete Olafson. I am not moving from here until you tell me what’s going on.”
“Don’t you trust me?” His blue eyes sparkled with mirth.
Her muttered epithets only made his smile broader. “Why, Ensign Maxwell, and I thought that you were a lady.”
Pete tossed the bag into the carrier and climbed onto the bike. Charley pulled on her helmet and took her place behind him. The bike roared as they drove along the coast road and out of the city. Charley watched as the familiar motorway raced by. They were heading back to the base.
Security was tighter than the last time she had been there. Fleet Command was taking no more chances with the Pegasus. They pulled up outside the hangar and Charley climbed off the bike, glad to stretch her legs. Titanium implants or not, Pete was in danger of being punched. They were supposed to be going to a wedding. What was he up to? “Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Absolutely.” Pete strode ahead of her into the hangar.
The workers and equipment were gone and the Pegasus floated before them. A set of pale stairs slid invitingly from the smooth metallic underside. The ship was finished, the damaged coms room had been repaired and the mattresses and MRE cartons were gone. They made their way to the bridge and lay side by side in the com chairs. Lights played around the walls as Charley slid the visor over her face.
“Ensign Maxwell, meet your new commanding officer.”
Charley found herself back in the same virtual office she had left two months before. Marc sat behind the desk wearing his captain’s uniform, trying to suppress a grin. Pete had to be joking.
“Captain Liston has been reinstated. He’s going to be the first A.I. officer in Fleet Command.”
Two scarlet flags appeared on her cheeks. Oh no, this couldn’t be happening. Marc was her new boss and she had kissed him and told him to spank her. She had shared a bed with him while Pete lay unconscious beside them. She wasn’t sure how she was going to break that one to the techie. In some ways, Marc knew a whole lot more about her than Pete did. This was worse than the last time. Much worse.
There was a bright gleam of mischief in Marc’s eyes for a moment before he resumed his formal demeanor. “Ensign Maxwell, please report to me on Monday at 0900 hours. I look forward to serving with you again.”
I bet you do. Charley stood up straight, stretching to her full height. “Yes Sir,” she responded.
All of this was Pete’s doing. The minute they got out of here, he was going to pay. She pulled back the visor and slid off the chair, making her way to Pete before he could disconnect from the visor. “You did this, you conniving …techie.”
Pete fended off her halfhearted slaps. “Fleet Command wanted to protect their multimillion credit prototype. They’ve tried other interfaces, but Marc refused to cooperate with them.”
“You cooked this up between you?”
Pete shrugged. “Let’s just say that neither of us wanted you to go to prison.” A slow grin spread across his face. “You could call this a win-win situation. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, but Marc’s a straight-up guy. Now that he’s your commanding officer, he can’t lay a finger on you.”
His hand cupped her neck, drawing her down to him for a teasing kiss. “But I can’t promise to do the same. In fact, I don’t believe that I can keep my hands off you for a moment longer.”
Pete unbuttoned her tunic, trailing light kisses along her neck. “Do you have a problem with that, Ensign Maxwell?”
Charley sighed happily. “No, Sir, absolutely not, Sir.”
About the Author
Raised on a diet of romance novels and science fiction, it’s not surprising that Caroline McCall turned to writing time travel and paranormal romance. She loves history, and some of her stories are inspired by Celtic myths and legends. Caroline lives with her partner and several spoiled, ungrateful felines on the windswept east coast of Ireland. She does most of the plotting for her novels while walking on the beach.
Caroline loves to travel, and her background is quite eclectic. She’s done everything from working as a roadie for a rock and roll band to designing knitwear. Caroline is delighted to be a member of the wonderful Ellora’s Cave team, and welcomes contact from her readers.
Caroline welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Caroline McCall
Jake’s Prisoner
Time Slip
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