Make Mine a Marine

by Julie Miller

  To have a man, especially a mature man with the coiled strength and exotic appeal of Mr. Echohawk, go out of his way to make sure she was safe gave her fragile ego a delicate little stroke of courage. And it reminded her of her manners.

  "I don't think we've been formally introduced, Mr.…" What was his first name? She tried to recall. Had she ever actually heard it before? Curious. "…Echohawk." She extended her arm over the top of the door to shake his hand. "I'm Sarah McCormick."

  He studied her hand as if he wasn't sure what the gesture meant. Or he didn't trust her sincerity. At the moment she thought he had rejected her overture of friendship and started to withdraw her hand, he captured her fingers in his. He had the callused grip of a working-class man. His touch was firm, warm.

  She was mesmerized by the contrast between him and Walter. Her hand looked small and delicate wrapped in his—and as creamy white as a daylily next to the coppery hue of his skin.

  "Call me Hawk," he murmured in that deep, soft voice before releasing her.

  A nickname, she noted. He was a man of many secrets. She wondered what, if anything, ever rattled that composure of his. Certainly not any feminine wiles she could conjure up. Sarah laughed at herself over her fascination with the man. She should accept this brief encounter for what it was, a polite gentleman doing what he thought was right to protect a woman in trouble, and nothing more.

  She had other, bigger problems to attend to than her own lonely heart.

  "I'm glad to see that chivalry isn't dead." Sarah climbed in and Hawk closed the door for her. She almost regretted arguing down his objections to the field trip earlier. He seemed like such a kind, patient man. She rolled down her window to wish him good night.

  Instead of moving away from the car, he surprised her by squatting down beside her window. "It's a mistake to go to Isla Tenebrosa, Sarah."

  The gentle reverence he gave her name almost made her overlook the challenge in his words. But the sly way he'd gotten around her defenses, with his gallantry and sexy voice, triggered the frayed strands of her temper. "You have no say in this," she said. "Tenebrosa's revolution is over. It's not a drug trafficway. They welcome tourists and their money." She pounded the steering wheel with her fist, punctuating each word. "I am going to the ruins at Las Lagumas, and you can't stop me!"

  A flash fire sparked in the depths of his eyes. It was the first glimmer of emotion she'd seen there. "You're a fool, schoolmarm. Tenebrosa isn't the place to prove your independence or show that bleached-blond bureaucrat of yours how strong a woman you are. It isn't safe. Anyone as naive and idealistic as you has no business taking a bunch of girls into the middle of that jungle."

  "I am thirty-four years old. I work with teenagers, for gosh sakes. I am hardly naive!"

  A muscle jerked in the side of his jaw, another outward sign that he, too, possessed a temper. "If I hadn't stepped in when I did, Kensit would have had his hands on you. He would have had his mouth on you. You wouldn't have liked it, and you couldn't have stopped him."

  Sarah's mouth opened in shocked protest at his vile words, but he never let her speak.

  "So, lady, if you insist on being so pigheaded and foolhardy that you won't change your mind, then I insist on one thing."

  "What's that, Mr. Echohawk?"

  "I'm going with you to Tenebrosa."

  Chapter Two

  May 25 rolled around with astonishing speed, yet for Sarah, the departure date couldn't have come soon enough. She hurried along the circular concourse at Kansas City International Airport, trying to keep her five teenage charges in sight. They, too, were bursting with anticipation to get their trip under way.

  But for Sarah, the adventure had already begun. With her aunts safely ensconced at their home with promises from neighbors to check on them daily, the school year over with her grades and requisitions turned in, and her bags packed, she'd been ready for three whole days.

  Correction. She'd been ready for this her whole life.

  Denise Adams's parents had volunteered to drive the group from Marysville to the airport across the state line in Kansas City. The other parents, Sarah's principal, and a handful of interested townsfolk saw them off at the high school early that morning.

  Sarah had nervously scanned the group of well-wishers and doubting gossips, looking for Hawk Echohawk to step forward, suitcase in hand, and climb into the van with them. When he didn't show, she breathed a huge sigh of relief and settled on the middle seat along with Andrea and Lynnette.

  She'd made it. They were going. They were finally going.

  For some reason, Hawk's threat to accompany them on the field trip had done more to make her question the wisdom of going than any of Walter's weekly attempts to dissuade her had. On the surface, both men appeared to have her best interests at heart.

  But she sensed a more personal motive behind each man's determination to have her stay put. With Walter, the motive seemed fairly obvious. She'd challenged his judgment in public. With an ego like his, he couldn't afford to back down from anyone who didn't give him what he wanted. And after discovering his true character—and hearing those humiliating reassurances that stripped her self-confidence down to her very soul—she wasn't about to give him anything he wanted.

  Sarah laughed inside, a wry sensation that twisted her stomach into knots. So much for not making this personal.

  She’d given herself a mental shake and stared out the window, watching the flat plains of northern Kansas turn into the rolling hills of the Missouri River valley. This trip was about rewarding herself, not punishing Walter. She had always wanted to see something of the world. With her inheritance, she had the means to travel as she wanted, but she'd never had the opportunity to leave for any extended period of time.

  Until now.

  And even Hawk's mysterious ways and secretive warnings couldn't stop her.

  Once she held her boarding pass in hand, she felt like a student playing hooky, slipping past the principal without getting caught. She was glad Hawk had decided to stay home. His threat to go with them to Tenebrosa must have been spoken in the heat of the moment. Except that she had the vague impression that he didn't say or do anything without first giving it careful thought.

  All the same, when the departure gate came into view, she dared to feel triumphant. She slipped off her shoes and prepared to walk through the metal detector, feeling like Alice entering a whole new Wonderland.

  "Come on, girls.” She smiled, gathering her charges into the line in front of her. “Shoes off. Everything loose goes into the bin with your carry-on bags.”

  Sarah herself removed her watch and the heavy metal barrette that held her hair back. Shaking loose the kinky waves, she dropped them into a bin with her sandals. She decided to plait her hair into one long braid and secure it with a rubber band once they got on the plane. There'd be metal detectors when they transferred in Mexico City, too.

  See how adaptable I am? she thought proudly. Walter and the townspeople had nothing to worry about. She was an intelligent woman, a quick learner. Just because she'd never flown on a plane before, just because she'd never been out of the country, didn't mean she couldn't handle herself responsibly on such a trip.

  "Miss Mack." Lynnette Stevens’ hushed young voice interrupted her self-praise. The teenager pointed to a spot over Sarah’s shoulder. "Look who's here."

  Sarah turned and knew she'd been sentenced to detention. Her worst fear unfolded as the dark-haired man with the big, rangy frame joined the back of the line waiting to pass through the security gate. Hawk Echohawk. A man who kept his promises.

  Damn.

  "Miss McCormick."

  The muscles of her face tightened into a frown. She gawked rudely at him, without acknowledging his nod of greeting. He'd cut his hair so that it barely brushed his shoulders now, catching it off his forehead with a black cloth headband. A black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and powerful arms, which easily carried a khaki duffel bag, and he wore a pair of thigh-hu
gging jeans over the tops of black ostrich-skin boots.

  With a quick glance, Sarah nudged Lynnette and her classmates on toward the check-point. “You five go ahead. I’ll be there in a sec.”

  When Sarah stepped out of line to let the elderly couple between them pass, Hawk ducked beneath the barricade to join her beyond the stream of travelers on the concourse.

  "You cut your hair." As far as telling him off went, her response bordered on the asinine. When she should be sending him packing, she found herself secretly mourning the subtle changes in his appearance.

  The man who’d rescued her in the parking lot had been a gentle hero. This man looked hard. Distant. All business. And he was quite possibly the most potently attractive male she had ever spoken to in person. Ever imagined speaking to. Ever…Oh, double damn.

  "What are you doing here?" She crossed her arms in front of her, tilted her chin and gave him her sternest look, one which she usually saved for recalcitrant pupils.

  "You should cut your hair, too,” he said, ignoring her question.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Without asking permission, he reached out and captured a lock of her hair between his thumb and fingers. "Yours is so long and thick that once you wash it, it'll be damp for a week in the tropical humidity. It's a pretty heavy weight to carry around in the heat of the jungle. Might give you a headache."

  Self-conscious, Sarah pulled the rest of her hair together at her nape and shook it down behind her back. His eyes flickered with the movement, flaring to life in a moment of awareness.

  "What?" she prodded, curious to know what he saw.

  Still holding the lock of her hair, he pulled his fingers down through the curls, smoothing it as he went. Sarah knew full well there were no nerve endings in strands of hair, yet the deliberate inspection of his gaze and fingertips whispered through her with the intimacy of a caress.

  A slow friction sparked stirrings in parts of her that had never known a man's touch. She caught her breath, wondering what he might be thinking. Wondering if he knew what he was doing to her.

  Wondering if he might be evaluating her as Walter had, rating her no higher than a D plus. For just an instant, she imagined he saw her with different eyes, viewed her with different results. For just an instant, she felt pretty.

  But he blinked once and the light went out in his eyes.

  "Mr. Echohawk, are you going with us?" Lynnette's curious question sounded right beside her ear, and woke Sarah from her adolescent stupor. Good grief! Hawk was offering travel advice, not a proposal. She snatched her hair from his fingers and tucked it behind her shoulder, safely beyond his reach.

  "Yes," he answered.

  "No!"

  Her negative answer released him from whatever had snagged his attention. His mouth narrowed into a thin-lipped frown directed at Sarah an instant before he turned and smiled at Lynnette.

  "I'm an unofficial chaperon. I've been to Tenebrosa before. I know the language and some of the customs."

  "Cool." Lynnette beamed under Hawk's attention. "Lyndsay and Colleen have had three years of Spanish. I just hope I know enough to order the right stuff off the menu."

  The devil! His smile broadened to reveal straight white teeth that gleamed against the contrast of his skin. "Well, I'll make sure you don't end up with fish-head soup or a skewer of scorpions for dinner."

  "Eeuw." Lynnette squealed on three different pitches. Sarah cringed. The last thing she needed was for the girls to develop a crush on Hawk. Judging by Lynnette's reaction, he could easily charm their loyalty away from her.

  She already had most of Marysville to fight. She didn't need to defend her actions to a self-appointed bodyguard who was subtly eroding what little authority she had left.

  Sarah touched the young brunette's arm. "Back in line, young lady. Why don't you tell the others to get their stuff together and wait by the gate."

  "Will do, Miss Mack."

  After Lynnette scooted off to relay the message, Sarah turned on Hawk. "These are not your students. They are not your children. I didn't even know you a month ago—"

  "I'm going."

  His clipped words left no room for argument. Yet they triggered her temper, all the same. "What is with you and that island? The Sinclair Foundation is a reputable organization. I would never take these girls someplace that wasn't safe."

  "Strange things happen on Tenebrosa." There was no evidence of the smile he had given Lynnette when he looked down at Sarah. "Go to Machu Picchu or El Tajin if you want to see the sights.” His soft, spine-tingling voice dropped to a pitch that chilled her to the bone. "If you want to get yourself killed, if you want to go to hell…then you vacation outside El Espanto. There's no revolution. No disease.” He leaned in. “But it'll kill you just the same."

  Sarah stared at him in mute shock. The blood seemed to drain from her body, and then a wave of righteous anger surged in to take its place. "How dare you speak to me like that! You're deliberately trying to frighten me because of something that happened to you. You don't say what. You just step out of a crowd and start spouting threats and portents like you're some kind of fortune-teller."

  She thumped him on the chest with her index finger, ignoring the potential danger of taunting someone much bigger and stronger than she. "You're a man, Mr. Echohawk. Apparently a very disturbed, single-minded man who's obsessed with some little island that nobody else cares about."

  Suddenly the air around them stilled. It filled with an invisible tension that radiated from Hawk and surrounded her in its suffocating embrace. As much as his touch had electrified her earlier, this eerie calm terrified her.

  And reminded Sarah that she was supposed to be shy. Her hand trembled and fell to her side. She dropped her gaze to the slight puckering in the cotton material on his chest where she'd struck him. Vulnerable and exposed, she floundered as helplessly as a newborn chick.

  "I'm sorry." Her apology came out on a breathy whisper. She struggled to make her gaze meet his, struggled to make him understand how desperately she needed to do this without his interference or the town's censure. "I don't usually hit… Please …“

  She never got any higher than the unforgiving line of his jaw. Before she could explain herself, before she could mend the inexcusable damage she'd done, a shadow loomed up behind her.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she did a wide-eyed double take and spun around. The man closing in on her was a giant. Hawk was a good-sized man, but this guy was even bigger. Broader. And the icy gray color of his eyes only heightened the air of threat that surrounded him.

  Without conscious thought, she backed up next to Hawk. Ridiculous, she thought, as if he would shelter her after the rude things she'd said to him. She'd been treating him like some sort of demented stalker.

  Still, the gentle protectiveness she'd sensed in him a month ago in that parking lot had haunted her unguarded moments. It had been nothing more than the impersonal gesture of a concerned citizen, and yet she'd felt more cherished, more important at that moment than she had since she was a little girl.

  She sought that shelter once more.

  The big man's hand reached out. Sarah backed away. Hawk extended his hand, and the two men clasped each other in a grip like brothers. A clash of titans, she thought. Who would be the victor?

  "Hawk," the big man said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. "Glad we didn't miss you. We had to stop and find the john."

  The john? Warriors didn't talk about going to the bathroom, did they?

  Then a woman waddled up to the big man's side. Waddled wasn't a very flattering description, but the woman was pregnant. Extremely pregnant. Sarah experienced a brief pang of envy. She'd given up on her own biological clock. She was too old, too plain, too proper to find a man who'd give her a son or daughter. She'd accepted long ago that her students would be her children. But she couldn't help the wanting. Not when the beauty of love and impending motherhood shone out of the woman's face.

  The big man
dropped his arm around the pregnant woman's shoulders and pulled her close. Hindered by her full belly, she still managed to wrap her arms around his waist and snuggle. Sarah's initial rush of concern that he would hurt the woman or the baby shifted into astonishment. Everything about the big man softened when he touched her—his imposing stance, his grim expression, his cold eyes. He clearly adored her, and Sarah was ashamed of her initial fear of the man.

  Her gaze dropped to the marbling pattern on the floor, which she wished would swallow her up. She'd been raised with manners. Were her nerves too tightly drawn to remember anything she'd been taught?

  Hawk leaned forward and kissed the woman on the cheek. She laughed at something he whispered in her ear. Sarah felt like an outsider. Tension fluttered in her stomach, and she couldn't get the apology in her head past the constriction in her throat.

  Obviously these were friends of Hawk's who'd come to see him off at the airport. There was nothing to protect her from here. Because of her anxiety over the trip, she'd panicked when there was no need to. No wonder half the population of northeast Kansas wanted her to stay put.

  In an effort to preserve what was left of her battered self-esteem, she quietly stepped away, escaping while the other three adults caught up on shared history.

  But five long fingers closed around her arm in a deceptively light grip, like steel sheathed in velvet. Her gaze flew up to Hawk's as he pulled her back to his side. The faintest light glowed around his dark irises, silently calling to her, connecting to the cold, frightened part of her that had battled enough for one day.

  How does he do that? He didn't look at her. He looked into her. Looked deep into her heart and saw secrets that even she couldn't remember keeping. How could a man of such darkness radiate such a light?

  Sarah frowned, questioning her own perception. It was just a trick, she thought. A trick of her tired mind and overactive imagination.

  "Sarah." Hawk was speaking now, and she made herself concentrate on his words. "I'd like you to meet Brodie Maxwell, an old friend of mine. And his wife, BJ."