His To Protect. Karen Rock

help her.

      “I’m getting you back to your quarters,” he said in a tone she’d bet was usually obeyed. He shrugged out of his uniform jacket, draped it around her shoulders and hustled her toward the nearby women’s quarters.

      * * *

      OF ALL THE people to run into after his long day. Cassie Rowe.

      The last person he wanted to see.

      Mark had struggled to compartmentalize as he’d worked to rescue survivors. Flying through bands of the storm, he’d sweated ten gallons trying to wrestle the Jayhawk through the remnants of the hurricane weather, pulling people out of tossing waves. That used to all be in a day’s work. Now? He battled demons harder than the buffeting winds, Jeff’s specter riding shotgun beside him, a dark copilot and a reminder of the biggest screwup of Mark’s career.

      He needed some R & R to decompress. Get his shit together. He was flight ready, damn it. Could more than handle this disaster response.

      As for Cassie?

      He had to get his feelings for her under control, too. His plan to leave her bag with the Red Cross’s chief nurse would have helped. Out of sight, out of mind.

      Then, holy hell.

      When she’d dashed out of the showers, a flimsy T-shirt molded to her voluptuous breasts, short shorts revealing the sweet curve of her ass, all the blood in his brain had gone south. In an instant, he’d forgotten all the reasons he was staying away from her, his hands itching to touch her smooth skin long before his sense kicked in.

      He took a deep breath and tried to banish the image of a nearly naked Cassie from his mind. The oversize jacket that hung to her knees should have helped...but he kept picturing her gorgeous body on the beach last night. The feel of her soft flesh, yielding to him. Demanding, too.

      He quickened his pace.

      “Hey!” she protested, flipping back her damp hair. All around them, the air moved like a wild thing, dark and dangerous, reminding him of everything he’d battled at the controls today over the Atlantic. How close he’d come to losing the bubble.

      He needed her out of here. She drew his attention like a fireworks display. One about to detonate in his face.

      “Slow down or let go,” she warned him, edging out of his grip.

      Which was just as well. He had no business putting his hands on her.

      “You didn’t have a problem keeping up last night.” Where had that come from? He sounded like a horny teenager. Or an arrogant asshole.

      She huffed beside him as a downed palm tree frond caught against the coat and she yanked a piece of stray foliage loose, her shape barely discernable now in the moonless night. “Really?”

      He slowed his gait, guiding them carefully over the branches. “That’s my recollection.”

      “I’d rather forget. I wish it’d never happened.”

      Her bitter tone left little doubt that she meant every word.

      So why wasn’t he glad about that?

      “If I’d known...” he began.

      A bitter laugh escaped her. “Then what? You would have avoided me. Stayed away like you did at Jeff’s memorial?”

      “An emergency came up.”

      “You could have visited his stone anytime.”

      Guilt ripped through him. Yes. He’d thought of that. Was planning to go, actually, after this mission. After he’d figured out what the hell to say to Jeff’s family. But now Cassie was here, her presence more intimate than he could ever have prepared for, catching him flat-footed.

      He breathed in the bracing, briny air. “Look, I can’t take back what happened last night.”

      “That’s it, isn’t it? You can’t take back any of it. So what’s the point? I’ve got my bag so you can go now. I’ll find my way alone.” She wrapped the coat tighter around herself. Was she still oblivious to the flying debris, or just that stubborn?

      “Where’s your room?” he challenged as he ducked beneath a tree, and pulled her with him when the air suddenly swooshed by carrying stinging pebbles.

      Her eyes darted around him. “I’m number ten.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “And where is that?”

      She flung an arm east. “There?” She pivoted and peered into the night. “Or did Raeanne say to the left of the showers...?”

      Overhead, a Jayhawk whirred, going out to sea. Out to face the nightmare winds that he’d just waged war with for hours.

      He nodded firmly. Felt his back teeth clench. “Right. Let’s go.” The USCG and Red Cross had commandeered a resort that had suffered limited damage for their operations. He’d passed the side they’d designated as women’s quarters on his way here—a string of bungalows deemed safe by the engineering crew.

      “Just tell me where...”

      Despite the gloom, her blond hair gleamed, her fresh-scrubbed face making her look young. Vulnerable. Why the hell had she come here? Anger seared his insides. She should be home safe with her family. Not in a place still full of danger. Where she could get hurt, like Jeff. Where she added to the crap factor of his first mission back.