A Dangerous Leap Read online

  He narrowed his eyes. Something about her looked familiar.

  The pilot announced their approach to a local medical facility and Ian retreated to one of the bulkhead seats again and strapped in, his mind spinning. Could they have met outside of the Coast Guard?

  Like a one-two knockout punch from a ringer in a fight, air escaped his lungs. He turned his attention back to the efficient fluid movements of the swimmer as she settled into the seat beside him. With an absent motion he’d seen before, she tunneled her fingers through her closely cropped hair.

  Oh yeah, he’d seen her before all right. Hell, he’d been lusting after her.

  She’d been drunker than a skunk. Kelly. That was the name she’d given him. No last name, and he hadn’t asked. He assessed her actions more closely.

  Nothing in her demeanor gave any hint of the incapacitated state he’d last seen her in. Lines of tension around her eyes could be caused as much by a world-class hangover as stress from the rescue.

  He’d spent half the night wondering why she’d looked so damn sad. And drank enough to be fried in short order.

  Ian had a hard time meshing the two very different images of her. The woman who moved with utter control sitting next to him now, to the one who’d had tears swimming in her eyes when he’d bundled her into a cab after refusing her blatant invitation to go home with her.

  Hell, and now they’d be working together. Thank God he hadn’t given in to pure male instinct.

  * * *

  Kelly rolled her shoulders and sipped the last of the slightly burnt coffee, sitting in the mostly empty break room near the air station’s hangar. She was dead on her feet but still jumpy. Maybe a couple ibuprofen would ease the drive to the marina where she lived.

  The familiar sound of aircraft taking off and landing made her feel at home. She’d grown up on and around naval airbases all around the world. And she’d been working on Coast Guard air stations for the last four years.

  A glance at her dive watch made her wince. Not even seven o’clock and she wanted nothing more exciting than to curl up in the stateroom of her boat and fall asleep. An unwanted memory of a smaller fur-lined V-berth, littered with obscene-looking sex toys, surfaced in her weary brain. If that boat had broken up when it hit the rocks, the girl could have drowned—

  “Hey Bishop, no frowning. You done good out there.”

  The deep voice made Kelly jump, knocking over the empty foam cup. A large hand grabbed for the cup when she did, completely smothering hers and making her jump again. But the shock was of a more basic origin. Heat spiraled through her before climbing her neck. She snatched her hand out of his obvious hold.

  Kelly found some consolation in his sudden look of discomfort. Maybe the touch had been as confusing to him as it had been to her? She blinked and sanity returned. Ha, not likely. From his dark good looks he was probably used to charming anything that wore a bra. More likely her blush had surprised him. After all, most guys didn’t see her as a woman—just a buddy they could talk to about their girlfriend problems.

  “You okay?” His voice softened and he settled onto the chair across the table from her.

  Dark eyebrows arched over Caribbean-blue eyes—a color unexpected with his olive skin tone and almost black hair. A color not easily forgotten…

  Kelly frowned. “Have we met before?” Maybe they’d crossed paths at a training facility. She’d heard someone mention his status as a Health Services Tech, so they’d both spent time training in Petaluma, California.

  Now it was his turn to look rattled. Holy turbine failure, did she see a blush staining the hard edges of his cheekbones? Just how many beers had she—no, oh, God, no. She slammed her eyes closed on the insidious vision that rapped gleefully on her pounding head.

  They’d met, all right. And not at some long-ago training facility. No, more like just last night during her almost-meltdown. She lowered her head till it rested on the cool Formica of the table. “Shoot me, or go away. But do not, I repeat, do not be sitting across from me when I raise my head from this table.”

  His deep laugh made her skin tingle and sent a ripple through her stomach and lower. God, she’d made such a fool of herself. She’d wanted him from the moment he’d sat at her table. He’d chased away that idiot friend-of-a-friend who was getting her numbingly drunk. But with his gorgeous face, she hadn’t minded the change in scenery. Heck, just because she didn’t care much for sex, she still had her fantasies. And he’d starred in a gloriously unrealistic one last night—until he dumped her in a cab, the rat-bastard.

  She lifted her head and propped her chin on crossed arms. “You’re not supposed to be here.” His chuckle turned into a laugh, his eyes sparkling with pure mischief. “You’d better not be laughing at me, mister. Remember, I’m a professional—I know how to make men suffer.”

  Yeah, right. She was a regular femme fatale if there ever was one. She bit her lip, trying to stop the twitching response to his laughter. Finally, she couldn’t control herself and giggles escaped. She laughed until tears ran. God, after her afternoon, she really needed something to laugh at, even if it was her own stupidity.

  “Feel better?” the guy asked and pushed a wad of napkins into her hand.

  “Yeah. I do. And I guess I should apologize first,” she said, avoiding his assessing look by wiping away her tears.

  “Why, whadya do?”

  Kelly looked up, surprised by his tone. Could he really be that nice? Pretend not to remember how she’d practically begged him to go home with her last night? Real tears threatened and she shook her head in disgust. No, she would not succumb to self-pity two days in a row. She only allowed herself one day a year to wallow in it, and that day had passed, just like all the others had over the last six years.

  “Okay, I made a total, absolute ass of myself last night. If you are a real gentleman, you’ll not bring it up to me, or your buddies.” She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Jeez, the rumors he could spread. They’d take off like wildfire in the tight-knit community of Coasties. The feel of his hand on hers made her snap open her eyelids. He gently squeezed her fingers and his expression was soft, sincere.

  “You did not make an ass of yourself. And nothing that goes on between us is anyone’s business but ours.” He released her hand and sat back in his chair.

  His promise sent a funny little squirmy feeling through her. She could almost believe it was true. The loss of his touch made her aware of wanting it back. She would have to be on guard around this guy. Guys like him were never serious about girls like her.

  “I’m Ian Razzamenti, HS Petty Officer First Class. And I owe you an apology.”

  “Uh-huh.” Yeah, for not going home with me last night. A blush sent her temperature climbing again and she hastily looked away. Her only excuse was temporary insanity caused by stress and an involuntary sexual moratorium.

  “No, seriously. I told Joe you must be an Amazon.” His gaze traveled down to her chest and back to her face. “You’re definitely not.”

  Kelly laughed. No, at five four and a hundred fifteen pounds of hard-earned muscle, she wasn’t an Amazon—nor would her rather pathetic showing in the chest department qualify…except didn’t Amazons have one breast removed to improve their skill with arrows or some such nonsense? God, she was truly pathetic. The name he’d mentioned finally sunk in.

  “Joe? As in Joe Peterson, the hoist operator?” The jerk who’d made it clear he didn’t want her hanging from his cable?

  “Yeah, he’s excellent at his job. And takes it very seriously.”

  Kelly snorted. “Does he resent all women in the military, or just me?” She’d talk about darn near anything to keep Ian here with her. Between his rich voice, and eyes she could dive into—oh, yeah, she was way past pathetic.

  He shook his head. “Nah, not really. See, he wanted to be
a rescue swimmer but washed out of training a couple years back. Knowing a woman made it, especially one who’s almost a foot shorter and more than a hundred pounds lighter, will probably take him a while to get over. Don’t pay him any mind. After he gets to know you, he’ll recognize your competence and value you as part of the team.”

  Kelly tried to ignore the warmth that came from his praise. The guy was a natural flirt—he didn’t have a clue how competent she was, or wasn’t. But that was okay, she’d take whatever friendship he had to offer.

  His dark hair looked wind-whipped, his smile quick and easy, and even in her drunken stupor last night, he’d looked real fine in faded jeans and white polo shirt. She allowed her gaze to wander. For that matter, he looked more than fine in his flight suit. Broad shoulders, trim waist, and if she were to guess at his height, she’d put him right at six feet. A little taller than she liked, but she’d make do; after all, she could do anything she wanted with her fantasy. That’s all he’d ever be.

  “Back off Razz, this bitch is all mine,” another voice interrupted them.

  * * *

  Ian watched Kelly’s eyes go wide at Lieutenant Caitlyn Stone’s outrageous claim. The helicopter pilot flipped a custom patch with BITCH emblazoned in bright red onto the table and perched on the chair next to Kelly.

  “I heard through the grapevine you took charge and kicked butt when you got that girl on board their helo,” she said with a gesture toward Ian and a wide grin of apparent approval.

  Ian chuckled at Kelly’s still-shocked expression. “Cait, you might want to explain what BITCH means so Kelly doesn’t feel insulted.”

  Caitlyn sat back, her brows arched high. “What, you’ve been here all day and you haven’t heard about my invitation-only-all-girls-no-boys-allowed club?”

  She tapped the matching embroidered patch on her ball cap and explained her informal sisterhood while Ian watched emotions flit across Kelly’s expressive face. Those soft brown eyes had him thinking crazy stuff. Like what would it take to make her laugh more? Or where she’d want him to touch her… Yeah, right, that made a lot of sense.

  He wanted tall, blonde and ready to settle down. Someone didn’t become a rescue swimmer to simply walk away from it a few years later. All the ones he knew were certified adrenaline junkies—after all, when you signed up for training that had a better than fifty percent attrition rate, the guys who made it were committed to the job for as long as they could perform. A woman taking that on had to be even more committed to tough out the training in the first place, what with a natural lack of upper body strength working against her.

  Caitlyn leaned forward. “You’re going to be on my crew for the next sixty days. That means you get to help us win the ACE award again this year.” She smiled at Ian and patted his hand. “Sorry, Razz, since you’re not an assigned air crew member, you don’t qualify. But you,” she said, turning her bright blue eyes on Kelly, “you’re an integral part of our team.”

  Kelly sat up straight, looking eager as a drill sergeant with a busload of new recruits. “I’ve never heard of an ACE award. What do we have to do to earn it?”

  Yeah, definitely not ready to trade in her fins for the joys of midnight feedings. Ian crossed his arms over his chest and settled back to watch.

  “ACE stands for Air Crew Excellence. Flight ops officers are looking for crews that exemplify team readiness and response. Just like you did today. Volunteering to go on that call-out despite not bein’ on the roster yet.” Caitlyn’s Southern accent thickened with her enthusiasm. “The quicker we gel as a team, supportin’, anticipatin’, and coverin’ each other’s tail, the better our chances of takin’ home the gold.”

  Some of Kelly’s spark dimmed. Hell, she was worrying about Joe. Ian understood his friend well enough to know he’d never let stupid jealousy get in the way of doing his job. She would just have to learn that working with him.

  “We also have an informal air crew-voted award called Deuces Wild. That’s dedicated to two teammates every air crew wants workin’ on their helo or airplane. Last year that—oops, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  Caitlyn hopped up with a saucy wink aimed at him. “Gotta go, hot date with a doctor. Kelly-girl, it’s been a pleasure. I’m looking forward to working with you.” She sashayed out of the lounge leaving a hint of tropical flowers and the buzz of energy she generated like a damn power plant in her wake.

  “Okaaay,” Kelly said and glanced down at herself before casting him a wide-eyed look. “Do you see tread marks?”

  Puzzled, he frowned and gave a slight shake of his head.

  She gestured to her chest. “I feel like I just got run over. Is she always like this?”

  He grinned, liking Kelly’s attitude as much as her perky looks. “Yeah, she is. And she’s one of our best pilots. You’re lucky your first rotation will be with her, especially during the height of hurricane season.” His smile faded. Hell, he’d been celibate too long—”perky” had never been a turn-on before.

  She rubbed her bare arms as if chilled. “I’m not looking forward to my first hurricane. I’ve done blizzards, ice, floods, even monsoons as a kid, but I’ve never experienced a hurricane.”

  “Monsoons, huh. Where’d you grow up?” He relaxed, content to stay where he was and ignore thoughts of Heather, his blonde girlfriend he’d left in the hangar earlier. He’d told her he had to check on a crewmember and would be a few minutes. Ian allowed himself the simple luxury of watching Kelly.

  He couldn’t figure out his interest. Her hair, worn shorter than some guys he knew, had dried into soft curls that showed red glints among the deeper browns. He’d love to play poker with her because she couldn’t hide emotions if she tried—they all played across her face. Her compact body, encased in soft cotton shorts and T-shirt, was tanned and well toned without making her resemble the muscle-bound Amazon he’d envisioned a female rescue swimmer to be.

  “I grew up all over the world,” she said with a laugh that didn’t quite ring true. She picked up the empty foam cup as if needing to hold on to something.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Navy brat?”

  She used her thumbnail to nibble away at the edge of the cup. “Yep, I’m genetically programmed to be near water.”

  “That might explain your Coast Guard choice, but why rescue swimmer?” And why the sudden tension in her shoulders and nervous fingers?

  “I joined because I wanted to be a rescue swimmer. I learned to swim in the ocean, have always been physically fit, and had a paramedic rating before I came to the Coast Guard.” She shrugged. “Whenever I said I wanted to be a swimmer, I got a smile and pat on the head. Then some guy said I couldn’t make it past the first week of swim school, so I just had to prove him wrong.”

  Oh yeah, Kelly was as competitive and committed to her crazy career as every other swimmer he knew. Heather enjoyed her administrative job in ops, but for her, the Coast Guard was only a job. She wanted to be a full-time wife and mother.

  Ian shifted in his chair. “So your parents don’t consider you a traitor for not going Navy?”

  She shrugged again, her casual attitude marred by the jerky motion and the lines suddenly banding her mouth. Definite problems on the home front.

  “Don’t know. They were both dead by the time I enlisted.” The chunks she tore from the hapless cup grew bigger.

  Ian couldn’t decide which bothered him more—the fact she’d lost her parents, or the forced indifference she displayed. He’d be devastated if anything happened to his parents.

  “I’m sorry, that must have been tough. Any brothers or sisters?” He moved his hands to his lap to keep from grabbing hers.

  Her fingers stilled and her smile reached her eyes, softening some of the lines. Good, maybe she wasn’t completely alone in the world. Without his loud, loving, Irish-Italian family to anchor him, he
’d be adrift, like a de-masted sailboat in a storm.

  “A brother.” Her look turned sad, a little wistful. “I haven’t seen him in ages. I was in Alaska almost four years and now he’s off doing covert ops stuff.”

  Admiration came across in her tone as much as in her simple words. Ian leaned forward. “He must be proud of you. Not many men, and a hell of a lot fewer women, even try to do what you do.”

  The remainder of the cup crumpled when her fist closed around it. He raised an eyebrow at her forced laugh.

  “To a Navy SEAL, what I do is little more than lifeguard duty.”

  His need to protect and comfort made him reach out and cage her hands in his. “Unless he’s some kind of macho bastard, he’s as proud of you as you are of him.” His vehemence surprised them both. She gave him a startled look and the subsequent shiver hardened her nipples.

  The corner of his mouth edged up. She was interested all right, and this time not three sheets to the wind. He let go of her hands and sat back, putting some space between them. Lord, what was wrong with him? He didn’t want to get involved with a crewmember. Hell, he didn’t do petite and he didn’t do perky. But man, oh man, he did want to do Kelly.

  Chapter Two

  Kelly laughed at Ian’s retreat. Obviously the poor guy was so used to coming on to women, he’d momentarily forgotten she was simply another crewmate—not someone worthy of flirtations. Yep, she was good old Kel, a safe, female buddy who gave guys advice about their girlfriends and commiserated with them when they were dumped. When they actually saw her as a girl it was as a sister, never as a potential girlfriend.

  Taking advantage of the space he’d given her, she stood, gathering shredded cup remnants. Time to fall back. “I need to head home. Thanks for giving me space on the helo. The last thing that poor girl needed was a bunch of guys hovering over her.”