Morgan's Wife (19 page)

A hand gripped Jim's shoulder. Instantly, he was awake. The jump master leaned over and said, "It's time to get ready, sir."

Shaking off the much-needed sleep, Jim nodded and moved into a sitting position on the nylon seats. Removing the black covering from his watch, he saw that it was 0200. They'd be over the target in an hour.

Automatically, his gaze ranged through the gloom. The jump master must have sensed his worry, because he leaned down again. "She's been sleeping almost as long as you have, sir. Shall I wake her?"

"No, I'll do it."

"Yes, sir."

Jim took the can that contained the colors they would use to darken their faces before the jump. His heart twisted in his chest as he drew closer to where Pepper slept. Her long body was tucked along four of the nylon seats, her hand beneath her cheek. She looked angelic, her lips softly parted, her hair in mild disarray around her serene face. He felt guilty at the thought after his concerted effort to remain apart from her during the flight.

As he knelt down, one hand gripping the nylon for support as the aircraft bumped along, he had a wild, nearly uncontainable urge to reach out and touch her hair. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that the jump master was probably watching him. Instead, Jim settled his hand firmly on her shoulder and squeezed just enough to waken her.

Pepper felt a strong, warm hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flew open. She blinked, thinking she was dreaming. Jim was kneeling over her, a concerned, unguarded look on his face. His eyes were shadowed, but they burned with a fire she felt go through her as surely as morning sunlight after a cold
Montana
night. No longer was he hard and unapproachable. No, this man was the one she was helplessly drawn to, against her better judgment.

She savored the feel of his hand on her shoulder and the strength and care it conveyed. When Pepper realized she hadn't moved, but had only stared up into his eyes like a child for that long, undiluted moment, she made an effort to sit up. Her hair fell in tangles about her face, and she used her fingers to tame it into some semblance of order. Jim's nearness was agony. He had removed his hand, but not himself. Why not?

Confused, she looked at him.

"It's time to get ready," he said. He handed her the can containing black, green and tan coloring agents. "Cover your face, neck, hands and lower arms," he explained, then forced himself to get up before he did something crazy like kiss her senseless.

As he rose to his feet, Jim knew he should return to his side of the aircraft, but he couldn't do it. Instead, he settled a chair away from Pepper and used her open tin to start camouflaging his own face. Covertly, he watched as she slowly applied the greasepaint to her lovely features. When they jumped, they would be completely invisible to anyone on the ground.

As he sat, absorbing the din and heavy vibration of the aircraft, Jim was surprised at how much Pepper meant to him. It was all so crazy, he decided in frustration. He continued applying the greasepaint to the exposed skin of his hands and forearms, wishing himself anywhere but here. Without question, he wanted to rescue Laura, but his heart longed for anything but the danger he knew they would be parachuting into. He'd had no time to talk to Pepper, to share his chaotic feelings, which were as surprising to him as he was sure they would be to her. Just as their kiss had been….

With a slight shake of his head, he finished smearing on the agent, feeling completely at loose ends. One part of him, the warrior, was focused on the mission to rescue Laura. But the man in him was torn between Laura and Pepper. Pepper was like a delicious, mysterious flower that had yet to open in his presence—a rare, beautiful orchid hidden deep in the jungles of the Amazon, waiting to be discovered, to be touched, to be loved.

Loved? Jim got to his feet, unable to stand being so near her. He was going to end up doing something foolish and embarrassing if he didn't move. Such a large part of him wanted to get to know her—all of her, on all levels. As he made his way back across the belly of the aircraft to the seats against the other wall, Jim realized he had to rise above his personal dilemma and focus on the mission. He needed to rescue Laura and find out just what she really meant to him.

No woman in his life had stunned him as Pepper had. Not that she'd meant to. No, he'd seen with painful clarity just how much she'd loved Captain John Freedman. He couldn't talk openly to people. He didn't possess those magical qualities that held Pepper in thrall.

Sitting down, his mouth grim, he began putting on his gear, plus the elastic joint protectors Pepper had brought along for them, with the help of the load master. Angrily, Jim forced his focus to the business at hand, but every once in a while he stole a look across the aircraft to where Pepper was being helped with her own gear. He saw the strain on her face and the fear in her eyes. That was a healthy sign.
Beneath his own emotional state, he felt that same fear and trepidation.
But his mind and heart were centered on Laura and Pepper.

Life was so screwed up, he decided disgustedly as he shrugged on the sixty-pound pack containing his two parachutes and everything else he'd need for the mission. Pepper had walked into his life, sent him reeling emotionally, but her heart was still trapped in the past—just as his apparently was. He had no time to savor her and discover her. Instead, they had a mission staring them in the face, and either, or both of them could die at any point. Never had Jim felt the surge of anger he felt now. How unfair life was. How damned unfair to all of them.

Compressing his lips, he thanked the load master and adjusted his headset.

"Pepper?" he said, trying it out.

Instantly, her head jerked up. "Yes?"

"You hear me okay?" Jim was barely whispering into the mike placed against his lips. Her husky voice sent a wave of need through him, one so excruciating that he had to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"Y-yes.
Fine."

Jim heard the fear in her voice. Without thinking, he crossed the cargo plane to her side. The jump master had finished helping her on with her pack and had gone to his position near the ramp.

Reaching out, Jim slipped his hand around Pepper's upper arm, his eyes meeting her shadowed gaze. "Are you okay?"

She drew in a ragged breath.
"Scared to death, if you want the truth.
I mean, I'm nervous about the jump, but I'm more scared of what waits for us on the ground."

He gave her a tight smile. "It's healthy to be scared. It will keep you alive."

Pepper gazed up at Jim's dark features, at his eyes, glittering with some unknown emotion. "You look like we're going for a stroll in the park," she observed, trying for levity. His hand hadn't left her arm, and she desperately wanted to move closer to him. Did Jim realize the strength and confidence he exuded? How it helped her steady her own frayed emotions?

"I'm scared to death, too," he rasped, meeting and holding her gaze. Pepper had tucked her glorious hair beneath a helmet, black knit cap and positioned the headset over it. Her once-tan skin was streaked black, green and brown.

"I'm glad to hear it. My knees are feeling weak. I'm shaking."

"It's okay," he soothed, losing the hardness he wanted to keep between them. If Pepper realized how much he ached to have her, to discover her as the wonderful, unique woman she was, Jim knew she would retreat permanently from him. He squeezed her arm and found himself wanting to slip his around her shoulder to reassure her.

With a nervous laugh, she said, "I haven't been this scared in a long time.
Maybe on my first jump into a fire with my team, but not since."
She felt bereft when Jim removed his hand. To her surprise, though, he didn't move away, instead remained only inches from her, as if to shield her with his tall, stalwart body.

"Fifteen minutes," the jump master informed them.

"Roger." Jim checked the altimeter on his right wrist and the watch on his left. "Is all your equipment in working order?"

"Yes." Swallowing hard and suddenly very thirsty, Pepper bit back the rest of what she wanted to say. She felt like babbling nervously to bleed off the fear that crouched in her chest and knotted her stomach. She could die in the jump. She could miss the island and drown. She could be gored by a tree limb…. Sitting down awkwardly with her pack, she fumbled with her bootlaces, tying them into double knots. Jim stayed close, and stymied, she wondered why. Was he worried she wouldn't or couldn't fulfill the mission now that she'd admitted her fear?

Her three-hour nap had left her feeling groggy. If only they'd had another day or two to rest up before the mission. Pepper felt strung out emotionally, uncertain about how Jim saw her, or even if he trusted her at all with this mission. The urge to turn, slip her hands around his broad, capable shoulders and press herself against him was very real.
Too real.
She told herself she was human, seeking comfort from an understandably scary situation. It was normal to find solace with another person.
But why Jim?
His heart was held captive by Laura
Trayhern
, whether she knew it or not. His love was bound up in the past.

"Five minutes," the load master said, hitting the switch that caused the giant ramp to open. Grinding sounds filled the cargo bay.

Pepper tried to still her pounding heart, without success. She got up and walked across the deck, with Jim at her side. Her mind whirled with a litany of what needed to be done and in what order. Everything hinged on her parasail opening without a hitch, and she worried about Jim's jump.
This time if something went wrong they wouldn't be able to help each other.
Although they would be in radio contact via their walkie-talkies, silence was a must. In fact, until they were established on the island and sure they hadn't been spotted, hand signals would be their only means of communication, for fear of someone overhearing them or discovering their position.

Jim gripped Pepper's arm, when the ramp opened fully and a gusting wind began to tear through the cargo bay. At twenty thousand feet, the air was freezing cold. He felt the aircraft begin to bank, bringing them east of their target,
Nevis
.

"One minute," the jump master warned.

Jim's fingers dug into Pepper's arm. "Listen," he
rasped,
his face very close to hers. "I want you to be careful. No heroics, okay?"

Startled, Pepper felt his warm breath on her face as she was pulled against him. She opened her mouth to reply, caught up in the fierce, burning light in his dark green eyes.

"
Dammit
, Pepper, this isn't how I wanted it. I wanted time…time with you. We don't have it. You're special. I just wanted you to know that…."

Stunned, she stared up at his grim features. One of her hands was resting against the pack on his chest, and she swayed slightly off-balance as the plane tilted. She felt his hand tighten on her arm to steady her. Somewhere in her mind she realized that Jim could have held her at arm's length and helped her regain her balance, but he hadn't. He wanted her close, as close as they could get under the circumstances. The helmet on his head, the tight chin strap, the greasepaint and the darkness combined to give his face a dangerous look. She felt his eyes burning into her, touching her heart, her soul. Not believing what she'd just heard, she said brokenly, "There are so many ghosts from the past, Jim…."

"Thirty seconds," boomed the jump master.

Cursing softly, Jim released Pepper and moved ahead of her. It was too late to talk. He saw the jump master's grim face and watched the blinking red light that would turn green any moment now. The C-130 suddenly straightened out into level flight after the deep, tight turn. Wind whipped against him. Fortunately, his goggles protected his eyes. His mind revolved forward to the mission at hand. God willing, they'd find Laura and get her out alive.

So much could go wrong.
So much.

The light flashed green.

The jump master gave the signal.

Jim moved down the ramp and leapt off its lip. Almost instantly he was hit by the power of the slipstream. He groaned and righted himself in the icy night air. Twisting to look upward, he heard the plane but couldn't see if Pepper had jumped yet. But he didn't have time to worry. Watching his altimeter, he pulled the cord when he reached ten thousand feet. The parasail opened flawlessly, jerking him upward as his gear sagged down, tugging mercilessly at his body.