Are Men From Mars?. Candy Halliday

      But now?

      When their entire top secret mission was in jeopardy? How could he possibly baby-sit the professor and make sure the Black Ghost was safely out of harm’s way?

      “But keep her where, sir?” Brad finally summoned the courage to ask. “We can’t take the chance of letting anyone else even know she’s here.”

      “Didn’t you say you had Baker take her to your living quarters?”

      “Well, yeah, but what do you expect me to do with her?”

      “You’re asking me that question?” the old man said with a laugh. “You? Mr. Love ’em and Leave ’em is actually telling me he doesn’t know how to keep a lady occupied for three short days? Cut the crap, boy. I know better.”

      Brad flinched. Maybe he did have a reputation with the ladies. If a lady wanted a friend, he could be a loyal one. If she wanted a fun date, he was her man. A little sex? Sure, he could be persuaded to rise to the occasion.

      However, it wasn’t likely Dr. Morgan would be interested in him, period. She was already fit to be tied over him destroying her film. But if Brad had to inform her that the two of them were going to be confined to his living quarters for the next three days? Hell, he’d come closer getting to first base with an angry barracuda than he would with the comely professor.

      “We’re not talking about some lady I’m taking on a date here, sir. We’re talking about me keeping a highly educated woman in my own bedroom against her will. Aren’t you concerned about the lawsuit she’s bound to bring against us when we do let her go?”

      Gibbons grinned. “What’s the matter? Afraid the professor is too smart for your usual lady-killer charm?”

      Brad frowned. “I’m saying this isn’t your typical situation.”

      “Damn right this isn’t your typical situation!” Gibbons boomed. “So the typical rules don’t apply. Got it?”

      “But, sir…”

      “Handle it, Hawkins.”

      “How? Keep the professor handcuffed to me for the next three days?”

      His outburst sparked another threatening gleam in the old man’s eye. “Hand me my briefcase.”

      Brad obeyed his order. Gibbons searched through his briefcase for several seconds, then eventually produced a set of steel-gray handcuffs. Brad caught them easily when Gibbons threw the cuffs in his direction. A second later, Gibbons tossed Brad a key.

      “I knew those would come in handy one day,” Gibbons said with a lopsided grin. “I took them from a snotty M.P. in Saigon one night when he tried to arrest me and your father for disturbing the peace. We’d just flown fourteen helicopter missions straight through the bowels of hell. We both decided no M.P. with a cushy security job was going to do anything but give us the respect we deserved. I took his cuffs away from him, and your father stuffed him in a trash can outside the bar. It still makes me laugh when I think about it.”

      Brad wasn’t laughing. “And you really expect me to use these?”

      “What part do you not understand, Hawkins? Handle it.”

      “Sir…”

      “That’s an order, Captain Hawkins. I don’t care how you do it. Just do it. Dismissed.”

      Defeated, Brad saluted the man he had always called Uncle Joe in private. The man who had become a surrogate father to him after his father was killed. The man who had been his mentor, his confidant, his pal.

      The same man who was grinning back at Brad now with an openly sadistic smile.

      “ISN’T IT STANDARD procedure that all prisoners get at least one phone call?” Maddie asked Sergeant Baker who was now standing in front of the only door in the room with his legs wide apart and his hands clasped behind his back in a typical guard-type pose.

      Still guarding her, of course, the accused spy whose only mistake had been to climb a fence in pursuit of an elusive butterfly that could have possibly furthered her career.

      “You’ll have to take that up with Hawk when he returns,” Mr. G.I. Joe-cool finally answered.

      “Hawk?”

      “Captain Hawkins. It’s his nickname. But not just because of his last name,” Sergeant Baker added with a sly grin. “We call him Hawk because there isn’t a chick in anybody’s coop safe when Hawk’s around. The hens simply can’t resist him, if you know what I mean.”

      Maddie felt her own feathers ruffle at that comment. She even clucked her tongue a few times before the lie slipped out in protest, “Then I guess I’m not your typical hen, Sergeant Baker. Because Captain Hawkins doesn’t appeal to me at all.”

      Baker’s smirk challenged her statement. “Then I’ll be sure and pass it along that Hawk has finally met his match.”

      Maddie was ready to cackle out a plea that Sergeant Baker do no such thing, but the door suddenly opened and the handsome hen thief himself stepped inside the room.

      She was on her feet in a flash.

      And how long had it been now? One hour? Two? Looking down at her watch, Maddie was shocked to see it had now been four long hours since she had unwillingly lost her freedom.

      “I’m worried about my sister,” Maddie was quick to tell him before he had time to say a word. “And I’m sure she’s frantic wondering what happened to me. Now, please, Captain Hawkins. Take me to your commander so we can get this whole mess straightened out.”

      His answer was to stroll across the room and force what appeared to be a neatly folded pair of camouflage pants and a T-shirt with the same irregular markings into her hands. On top of the T-shirt sat a new toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste, a small bottle of shampoo and a brush and comb.

      “Standard government issue,” he said matter-offactly. “These clothes were the smallest I could find. I’m sure you’d like to clean up and get rid of some of that dust and sand.”

      Refusing to let an act of kindness deter her in the least, Maddie looked down at the bundle, then back up at him. “You seem to be under some misguided notion I’m going to need these. But I assure you, as soon as I get to see your commander that won’t be the case.”

      He accepted the bundle when she pushed it back in his direction, but they continued to face each other like two gunslingers prepared for a shoot-out. Maddie stared at him. He stared back. She tried to step around him and head for the door. He purposely blocked her path. With only inches left between them, Maddie had nowhere to look but up. And the second she did, she became lost in the dark brown depths of his eyes.

      “I’m sorry, Dr. Morgan, Commander Gibbons isn’t available at the moment.”

      “He isn’t?” Maddie managed to squeak.

      She didn’t object when he took her gently by the elbow and began leading her away from the door and in the direction of the love seat. Just the touch of his hand was enough to make her knees weak. The faint smell of his aftershave didn’t do much for her addled thoughts, either. In fact, Maddie was mentally fabricating a letter of complaint to Mr. Ralph Lauren in protest of the intoxicating effects his products had on women, when she glanced back over her shoulder at Sergeant Baker’s grinning face.

      In an instant, the words hawk and henhouse sobered her faster than a bucket of ice water.

      “Now listen, Captain,” she said, pulling away from him in the nick of time. “Like you told me earlier, we can do this easy, or we can do it hard. It’s your choice. But I am going to see this Commander Gibbons one way or the other. Is that understood?”

      He had the nerve to laugh.

      “You think that’s funny?” Maddie demanded, shaking her finger in his direction. “You think you can hold me against my will, and I won’t