Darcy's smile faded. "Then the world situation started heating up with Afghanistan and Sentavo, now Cantou. The memories all began crowding back in my brain again. The more my father put the stops on a combat assignment, the worse the helplessness became."
She shifted over onto Max's lap and straddled his legs. Her palms landed flat against his chest. Intensity hummed from her. "I want to fly, Max, and I'm not afraid of combat...well, not any more than a normal person should be. I hate it that all this is coming back up to screw with my mind."
Damn being distant. He hauled her against his chest. "Have you talked to anyone else about this?"
She tucked her head under his chin, the scent of her shampoo drifting up. "Not since the counselor. I didn't even tell the civilian investigators most of it. The people responsible died in the raid when I was found. I wasn't ready to think about the snakes, much less talk about them."
He tried to follow her convoluted retelling without slowing her momentum. "Snakes?"
"While I was in the bunker, I developed a level of tolerance for the bugs and even the rats after a couple of days, or just hid my fear better. So they pulled out the big guns in the pest department. That's how they punished me for trying to slip secrets to my father during the phone calls."
He could just see Darcy in battle mode, even at thirteen, staying calm, strategizing when she must have been scared as hell. He stroked his hands up and down her back.
She shuddered. "They held snakes to my face. Let spiders crawl on me. Honest to God, it was easier to fight off the attackers underwater than to deal with all those bugs these past weeks, and then there was that damned snake in my room."
His hands slowed along her back. Information shifted in his head like pieces of a puzzle looking for a clean fit. "Darcy, tell me again who knows about the snakes. The cops?"
"No. I didn't even want to say the word snake, much less chitchat about them. My dad cleared away any public records and most of the military ones, as well. I worked through it with the counselor and then put it to rest. Or so I thought."
He took her shoulders and eased back. "Your counselor would have made notes. Right?''
"Sure, sealed, though."
Ah, hell. Max hefted her off his lap and onto the other side of the bed. He rolled to his feet and scooped up his swim trunks.
"Max? What are you doing?"
He yanked them on while searching for his shirt. "Sealed military records. Records that someone with deep military intelligence connections would be able to link into for ways to get to you because of your connection to me. Someone with high-tech surveillance experience to work with the tap."
Her brow crinkled, her mind racing to catch up. "Military intelligence personnel dealing with surveillance equipment?" Her eyes widened with dawning horror. She shook her head. "Not Crusty. It isn't him."
"No. He was on the plane with you yesterday and could have died, too." He jammed his arms through his shirt and whipped it over his head. "Not Crusty. Kat."
"Kat? I'm not following here. I'm still stuck back on the idea that someone read my sealed records to torment me with my worst fears."
"The O'Club caterer."
She wrapped the sheet around herself and stood. "That sounds like a stretch to me."
Max grabbed his wallet and keys. "Lieutenant Colonel Kat Lowry, Army CID, posing as mother to Vinnie the civilian agent."
"Hell, how many of you are there on the island?"
"More than I wanted." Of course having Kat Lowry off the op wouldn't have stopped her. If his suspicions were on target, she'd been at this for years.>She should be dancing. He wanted her. Even lo— Damn. She couldn't even think it. Couldn't breathe as she sat in the circle of his arms. Still, she felt so much for this man. And it scared her. Max was supposed to have been safe, first as the moody professor, even later as the driven operative—both men who wouldn't make demands on her emotions.
The words were right there in her head, waiting to be spoken. Waiting for her to throw away control and give over her life and herself to a chance with this incredible man who mesmerized her even as he confused the hell out of her.
"Max." She pushed the word out. "I—" He shook his head, cupped a hand behind her neck, urged her forward and just kissed her.
Man, did he have a way of just kissing her.
Her insides melted. She hooked her arms around his neck and lost herself in the moment. Tried to ignore the insistent voice telling her she wasn't being fair. She was using sex to avoid talking. She knew it, but couldn't make herself stop. How strange that Max could voice his feelings while she hid behind desire.
A desire sparking through her with all the heat of an afterburner. Desire and emotions, too, whether she wanted them or not. But what did she feel for this wild, unpredictable man who'd so captured her attention, from the minute he'd sauntered into her life?
She didn't want to think. Just wanted to feel. So much easier than sorting through emotions and the risk of opening her heart.
Being vulnerable.