by Karen Foley
“Well,” Chase said when Chance was silent, “it isn’t the first time you’ve been mistaken for me.” He poured each of them a steaming mug of coffee.
“You’ve got it backward,” Chance retorted. “You said it yourself. The only reason she spoke to you is because she mistook you for me.”
“Did you know she was going to be here at Kabul?”
“Of course not. We were only together that one night and we didn’t exactly spend time talking about future deployments,” Chance added sourly. “In fact, I didn’t even know she was active duty until after we’d—” He broke off and stared moodily out of the window at the blowing sand.
Chase peered at his brother over the rim of his mug. “She looked seriously pissed off.”
Chance shrugged. “Apparently, she has a thing about sleeping with pilots.”
His brother raised his eyebrows. “As in…she likes to sleep with them?”
“Ah, no,” Chance said drily. “As in…she’d rather suffer all the scourges of hell than sleep with even one pilot.”
To Chance’s chagrin, his brother began to laugh. “So let me get this straight,” Chase said, when he could finally speak again. “She slept with you, thinking you were me.”
“No. She slept with me thinking I was special ops,” Chance clarified.
“Right. So you knew she had a thing about pilots, and yet you still did her? Why didn’t you tell her right then that you were one?”
“I had no idea how she felt about pilots, and by the time she let me know, the deed was done. I didn’t see any point in making her feel bad about it.” Not when she’d felt so good in his arms. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Besides, I didn’t think we’d ever see each other again.”
“But you’d hoped.”
Yeah, he had hoped. Despite the fact that she’d delivered a serious blow to his self-esteem with her remarks about pilots, once he’d gotten over his ego, he’d gone straight to Fort Bragg where her battalion was headquartered, intending to tell her the truth about himself. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He’d wanted an opportunity to prove to her that he wasn’t like the guys she worked with.
But he’d discovered that her entire unit had gone wheels up to Afghanistan, and would be stationed at Kandahar Air Base for the next six months. When his own unit had geared up for deployment a month later, he’d hoped like hell they would be sent to Kandahar, but they’d been assigned to Kabul, easily three hundred miles to the north.
“So now she knows the truth,” Chase said, sipping his coffee and watching Chance with a contemplative look. “What are you going to do about it?”
“What do you think?” Chance set his mug down on the shelf and stood, grabbing a pair of goggles and a scarf from a hook near the door. “I’ll return these.”
“Yeah, yeah. Better hurry, or the storm will be over and she’ll be gone.”
* * *
CHANCE KNEW WHERE the itinerant pilots were housed, but when he finally found the housing area for the female crew members and pounded on the door, it wasn’t Jenna who answered.
“This better be an emergency,” grumbled a small, dark-haired woman with a purple satin eye mask pushed up onto her forehead. She held a handkerchief over her mouth and stood well back from the doorway as she peered through the swirling dust at Chance. Then her eyes widened and she dropped the cloth away from her face. She looked panicked as she snatched the eye mask from her head and made an attempt to stand at attention. “Sir! Good morning, sir!”
“At ease, Soldier.”
She relaxed fractionally. “What are you doing here? Sir.”
“I’m looking for Jenna. Is she here?”
“No, she went over to the gym about an hour ago.”
Anxiety knifed its way through his gut. She should have been back to her quarters by now. Kabul Air Base was enormous. It would be all too easy to get disoriented or lost, especially with the reduced visibility. Frustrated and concerned, he shielded his eyes and scanned the surrounding area, as if he could will her into sight.
“Is she familiar with the base?” he asked.
The woman shrugged. “As much as any other itinerant pilot, I guess.” She opened the door wider and stepped back. “You’d better come in, or we’re both going to die of asphyxiation.”
Chance hesitated, then stepped inside the structure, resisting the urge to shake the sand out of his hair. There were rules against males entering a female’s living quarters, but he told himself this was a unique situation. Glancing around, he saw the B-Hut was outfitted with four small sleeping quarters, but the woman who had answered the door was the only occupant. She wore a pair of baggy sweatpants and an army T-shirt, and now she appraised him with open curiosity.
“We’ve been to Kabul before,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “Which begs the question…what the hell are you doing here?”
Chance sharpened his gaze on her, a suspicion forming in his mind. “Have we met?”
She tossed the eye mask and kerchief onto a nearby chair and smiled at him. “No, but I remember you from the club back home.” She extended her hand. “Warrant Officer Laura Costanza. I’m Captain Larson’s copilot.”
Chance shook her hand. “Major Chance Rawlins…I’m a pilot with the 82nd Aviation Regiment.”
He watched with grim satisfaction as her smile faded. “You’re a Wolf Pack pilot?” she asked, referring to the battalion’s call sign. “But I thought… I was told you were special forces.”
“That would be my twin brother, Chase.” He cocked his head. “Why? Is there a problem?”
Laura looked helplessly at him. “She’s sworn off pilots.”
“Yeah, I got that memo. Do you know why?”
“Because you’re all a bunch of self—”
“Yeah, I got that memo, too,” he interrupted tersely. “Was she involved with a pilot? Someone who hurt her?”
“No, not since I’ve known her. The only other pilot in her life is her dad, and he’s a freaking hero.”
Chance frowned. “Who’s her father?”
“Captain Erik Larson, Medal of Honor recipient.”
Chance gaped at her. “The Erik Larson? The Vietnam pilot?”
Anyone who flew a military helicopter knew about Erik Larson, and how he successfully completed fifteen missions into enemy territory to airlift injured soldiers out of war zones that were deemed too dangerous for medevac choppers. The guy wasn’t just a hero; he was a legend.
“The same,” Laura confirmed. “After the war was over, he left the army and started his own helicopter sightseeing business. From what I hear, he taught Jenna everything he knew about flying.”
“Does Jenna ever talk about him?”
Laura shook her head and mouthed the word nope. “That subject is off-limits.”
Which explained a lot.
“Okay, thanks,” he said. “Look, where would Jenna go if she was upset?”
Laura shrugged. “Somewhere private, where nobody would bug her, I guess.”
And just like that, Chance knew where she was.
“Thanks,” he said, and bolted back into the swirling dust. He made his way across the base to the flight line. There were very few people out at this early hour, especially with the sandstorm. Aside from several security details, Chance saw only a couple of other soldiers making their way toward the dining facility.
He reached the hangar closest to the helipad and ducked inside. An Apache helicopter sat in the middle of the open space and two mechanics were working on the engine. They glanced up as Chance walked through, noting his PT clothing, but they didn’t challenge him.
“Which pad are the Black Hawks parked on?” he asked. The dust was so thick that he could barely see his own hand in front of his face, never mind a Black Hawk helicopter several hundred yards away.
One of the mechanics gestured toward the right. “A couple of them are over there. But all birds are grounded until this shit clears up. Can I help you with somet
hing?”
“No, thanks.” Chance pulled his military ID free from his pocket and flashed it toward them. “I’m looking for a female pilot who may have come through here a little while ago.”
The two men exchanged a meaningful look. “Yeah…she’s over in tail number Romeo-Echo-Hotel-five-six-one.”
Muttering his thanks, Chance left the hangar and made his way over to the helipad. As he got closer, he could just make out the dark, looming shape of several helicopters, and paused to read their tail numbers. REH561 was the third chopper on the pad, and the one farthest from the hangar. Without pausing to reconsider his actions, he slid the cabin door open and climbed inside, pulling the door tightly closed against a gust of swirling sand and grit.
“What are you doing here?” asked a feminine voice, clearly laced with hostility.
Relief swamped him. Removing his goggles, Chance glanced around the small compartment until he saw Jenna at the rear of the cabin. She sat slumped in one of the troop seats. Keeping his head low, he picked his way carefully around the equipment and wiring on the floor and lowered himself into the seat next to hers. This dust-covered, despondent version of Jenna seemed so starkly different from the woman who had boldly straddled his Harley that for a moment he was taken aback. He wanted to touch her so bad, to drag her across his lap and just hold her. Instead, he linked his fingers together between his knees and angled his head to look at her.
“Hey,” he said softly, bumping his shoulder against hers. “You okay?”
She pulled away and refused to look at him, focusing instead on her hands. “I was. Until you showed up. Why are you here? To gloat?”
“Why would I gloat?”
She turned her head to give him a tolerant look, and he could see the misery in her hazel eyes. “Why is your call sign T-Rex?”
“What?” Chance was unprepared for the sudden change in subject. Call signs were the nicknames given to aviation pilots and crew members. “I guess because as an Apache pilot, I’m one of the biggest, baddest predators out there. And because I’m from Texas and T-Rex sort of sounds like a shortened version of Texas. Why?”
“Do you know what my call sign is?” she finally asked.
Chance shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“Goalie.”
“Ah. As in everyone tries to hit on the goalie?” He’d not only hit on her, he’d scored. Big-time.
“If the guys in my battalion ever find out…”
Chance knew this was his cue to assure her that he’d never tell anyone about that night, and promise her it would never happen again. But the words stuck in his throat. There was no way he’d utter them, because they weren’t true, and if he had anything to say about it, they’d be doing the same thing again soon and as often as possible after that.
“I didn’t take you for the type to feel sorry for yourself,” he said casually, studying the backs of his hands.
“I’m not feeling sorry for myself,” she retorted with indignation.
“Good,” he replied, his voice sounding rougher than he intended. “Because I’m not sorry about that night, and I’m not going to apologize for what happened between us. I had no freaking clue you were a pilot, or that you had some dumb-ass rule about not hooking up with other pilots.” He pinned her with a hard glare. “Not that it would have made a difference.”
She made a snorting sound that ended on a groan of self-loathing. “If this ever gets out—”
“What?” he demanded, spreading his hands. He sympathized with her, he really did, but he was quickly losing his patience. “What’s the worst that would happen? People would realize that you’re human after all?”
“You’re a guy. It’s different for you. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.” When she remained quiet, he tipped his head back and blew out a hard breath. “Okay, you know what? The next time you decide to sleep with a stranger, do yourself a favor and at least get the guy’s name, rank and social-security number, okay?”
He was deliberately callous in an attempt to piss her off, because anger would be a whole lot easier to deal with than self-pity. If she started to cry, he’d be toast. To his surprise, she slanted him an amused glance.
“I thought I had,” she said. “Well, except for the social-security number. What are the chances that twin brothers would be assigned to the same base?”
Chance shrugged, relieved by her response. “I have a little more leeway about where I want to be assigned than Chase does. His unit is based permanently out of Fort Bragg, so I requested an assignment with the 82nd Aviation Regiment and was fortunate enough to be picked up. Not that we get to see each other all that often, but it makes my mother feel better knowing we’re within shouting distance of each other.”
“Well, it makes sense in hindsight,” she said, and a ghost of a smile tilted her lips. “I actually tried to hit on you yesterday, after we arrived, but in fact I was hitting on your brother.”
“Yeah,” he said darkly. “I heard. When you called me Chase, all I could think was that you might have slept with him, thinking he was me. You were clearly upset, and I knew he was on the base, so I jumped to conclusions.”
“You really freaked me out,” she said, straightening up. “When you asked me what your name was and wanted to know when we had met, I was convinced you’d suffered some sort of brain damage.”
Chance laughed softly. “I can see why you thought that. I must have seemed a little unbalanced.” Reaching over, he laced his fingers with hers, gratified when she didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry. I should have come clean with you that night at the airfield about being a pilot.”
She made a self-deprecating sound and rolled her eyes. “Me and my big mouth. I said some pretty horrible things about pilots, and I don’t blame you for keeping quiet. After my anti-aviator rant, you were probably too terrified to tell me the truth.”
“I was not terrified,” he said firmly. “I didn’t tell you that I was a pilot because I didn’t want you to beat yourself up over what we’d done, not when it was so freaking great.” He was quiet for a moment, debating. He squeezed her fingers gently. “But what I really didn’t want was for you to hate me. Or yourself.”
She turned to look at him, and her expression softened. “You told me that you hoped I wouldn’t think badly of you if we ever met again.”
“Look, if you would just give me a chance—”
A hard gust of wind hit the side of the helicopter, peppering the exterior with sand and small rocks and startling them both. Through the windshield, the world was an impenetrable haze of brownish-yellow fog.
“Christ, this thing could go on for days,” Chance muttered. “I hate being grounded.”
Jenna released his hand and stood up, keeping her head low, but he was unprepared when she straddled his thighs and looped her hands around his neck. Under the fine coating of dust that covered her skin and workout clothes, he could smell her fragrance.
“When I saw your brother yesterday at Kalagush,” she said quietly, looking directly into his eyes, “and I thought he was you…my first reaction was absolute shock.”
He gave a huff of laughter. “I can understand why.”
“When you acted as if you didn’t recognize me, I thought you were sending me a clear message that you weren’t interested,” she said wryly. “That, or you were trying to keep our previous relationship a secret from your men.”
Reaching up, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s what you would do, not me.”
He deliberately didn’t make any comment about being interested or not. He’d already told her how he felt about that night, and he’d all but said he’d like a repeat performance. The next move was up to her, although he wasn’t sure how he would react if she insisted they couldn’t see each other again. He hoped he would accept her decision with grace, but just the thought caused an uncomfortable tightening in his chest.
She gave him a rueful smile. “Well, I’d already deci
ded I wanted to see you again.”
Chance pulled back a bit and studied her face. “That was when you thought I was special ops. Would you have felt the same way if you’d known I was an Apache pilot?”
Jenna averted her gaze and silence stretched between them until Chance was sure she wasn’t going to answer. She dropped her arms from around his neck and plucked moodily at the front of his T-shirt. “I’d like to think so, but the truth is…I’m not sure.”
“Well, at least you’re honest,” he said drily.
“Even believing you were special ops, I had to think long and hard about whether I really wanted to hook up with you again.”
Chance gave her a lopsided grin, even as something fisted low in his gut. “That bad, huh?”
When she raised her gaze to his, she wasn’t smiling. “No…that good. But the last time I saw you, I got the distinct sense that you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”
“Not true,” he retorted gently. “I had just had this amazing night with you, only to discover I was the embodiment of everything you were determined to avoid. If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get any sleep that night.”
“Good,” she murmured, “because neither did I.”
Jenna’s gaze dropped briefly to his mouth, and he heard her breathing hitch. Chance’s body tightened under her sensual scrutiny and it took all his effort not to lean forward and kiss her.
“I really wanted to see you again, but I knew I needed to tell you the truth about what I do for the army,” he admitted. “It took me a couple of days, then I went over to your battalion to look for you, only to find out you had deployed.”
He knew he’d surprised her. “You came looking for me?”
“I did, yeah. I missed you by just a few hours.” He studied her face. “So imagine my surprise when, two months later, I find out that not only are you here at Kabul, but you actually propositioned my damned brother!”
Jenna cringed. “Sorry. I thought he was you—special ops.”
“Understood. And now you know that I’m not.” He dipped his head to look directly into her eyes. “So…?”
