If only she didn't feel his eyes on her every time she turned around.
Yanking her mind back to work, Darcy finished punching in the landing coordinate data into the C-17's computerized instrument panel. Her job was too important to her to risk it for anyone, no matter how hot or interesting. She lived to fly. She thrived on making a difference, and while today's mission might not have been Cantou-kick-butt material, she'd made her mark. She didn't know any other way of life.
Darcy pressed the interphone button to check in with the aircraft commander in the left seat. "Landing calculations complete," she reported, crunching a bite of her apple.
The plane bucked. She grabbed for her green military bag as it slid toward the floor. "Hey, Crusty, how about giving me heads-up next time you opt for acrobatics."
"No problem," Daniel Baker slid a finger under the earpiece of his headset. "If you'll warn me before you blow out my eardrum crunching your lunch. Or better yet, let's go to hot mike so I can hear every bite."
Laughing, Darcy pitched a wadded napkin at him. "Bite this, sir."
"They sure breed copilots mouthy these days."
"I try my best." Darcy flipped the microphone to the side while she finished her apple.
The plane flying wingman eased into view, high and to the right. Bronco manned the helm, flashing a thumbs-up just before the headset crackled with his voice. "Way to pound through the skies. Did Crusty just take over the controls?"
Baker snorted. "Funny."
"What kind of flying they call that?"
"Good," Baker quipped without hesitation. "We're talking real, warrior flying, in case you didn't recognize it when you saw it. The kind that makes lesser men hurl."
"Well, go easy on your wren. Wouldn't want her ralphing up her lunch."
Darcy thumbed the mike button. "Not a chance of that."
Laughter filtered over the headset as the other plane held steady, one of the C-17s from McChord AFB. The Washington squadron had deployed a detachment unit to assist with the relief effort, packing Guam with cargo crewmen. Today Bronco crewed with his old buddy Major Grayson "Cutter" Clark, a dual qualified pilot and flight surgeon.
Crusty tore the wrapper off a Snickers bar with his teeth as he flew. "Guam approach, Reach one-four-five-two, lead aircraft level at twenty-one thousand feet, wingman level at twenty-two thousand. Request one turn around the island before landing."
"Roger, Reach one-four-five-three," the control tower acknowledged. "You are the only traffic in my scope. Cleared for one turn around the island. Call me when ready for landing instructions."
Darcy pitched aside her apple core just as they descended to seven hundred feet for a low-level approach to the island. She enjoyed this part of her job, seeing the world at its best from a primo box seat. Bird's-eye views didn't come any more magnificent than this. Waves crashed in foaming white breakers against the shoreline of the dormant volcano land base.>Silhouetted by the sunset, Max stood, clasping Darcy's hand to pull her to her feet.
Robin saw the very moment Max realized they weren't alone. The slight narrowing of his eyes, followed by a quick scan of the perimeter.
Beating yourself up over losing focus and missing me here, are you? Good. Robin savored the victory and called out, "Well, hello there."
Max nodded.
Darcy dropped Max's hand. "Hi. I didn't see you walking up. Uh...been here long?"
"For a while. Mind if I join you?" Robin sidestepped stones down the rocky path to the coral outcropping, clutching the bag of sunscreen, binoculars, night vision goggles and a 9mm. "I've heard this is the best spot on the island for taking in the sunset."
Swiping an arm over his forehead, Max dried away beads of sea spray mingling with sweat. "Another time. The spot's all yours." He urged Darcy forward. "Let's get moving back to the base before those clouds open up."
"Bye." She tossed a quick smile over her shoulder. "Enjoy the sunset."
"I plan to." Robin smiled back, all the while thinking how this woman's rough-and-tumble style paled next to Eva's exotic elegance.
Max palmed Darcy's waist, ushering her around the tree and up the hill. Robin eyed their backs, a hand gravitating down to caress the concealed weapon.
The couple faded from sight, but Max's profile image as they'd left stayed imprinted in Robin's memory. A one-second, unguarded look from the man and Robin knew. The guy wasn't as immune to Darcy Renshaw as he wanted her to believe.
Maybe the ever-honorable Max had pushed her away because of his undercover mission. Or maybe out of lingering feelings for Eva.
Not that the reasons mattered in the least.