Mary Elise gripped the barred edge of the seat to steady her hands. She might not be able to regulate her pulse or her feelings, but she could control what she did about them. Bigger worries loomed, anyway, far more important than discovering if Daniel Baker still administered the most thorough, long and intense kisses she'd ever known.


"Danny, could you pass me the smaller bag inside the crate, please? The black canvas one. Trey needs his inhaler."


"Don't … want it," Trey insisted.


Daniel's forehead trenched. "The kid has asthma? Why didn't someone tell me?" He shifted away, mumbling, "And why didn't someone mention who the hell would be accompanying them?"


So it bothered him after all. Mary Elise stifled the urge to do an impromptu victory dance and rubbed soothing circles along Trey's back while Daniel reached into the crate.


His flight suit stretched across narrow h*ps that veed up his back into broad shoulders. Muscles rippled under taut green fabric with restrained strength. He pivoted around with athletic fluidity, pitching the bag toward her.


"Thank you," she said, avoiding eyes that told her too well she wouldn't be able to dodge talking soon.


Mary Elise yanked the zipper open and rifled inside the pouch until her fingers closed around the inhaler. She snapped off the cap and thrust her hand toward Trey.


He brought the medicine to his mouth and pumped once, twice, again.


She prayed they wouldn't be stranded in the air with Trey in a full-blown attack. "Come on, hon, take one more hit off the inhaler, okay?"


His shoulders heaved with a shuddering inhale.


Mary Elise waited for signs of relief. Years spent tending her chronically ill mother had left her with more knowledge about lung disease than some doctors. Her mother's illness had also left her unsupervised, free to tromp alongside the neighbor boy. Never once had Danny complained about a pesky tagalong two years his junior. He'd shrugged off any teasing—when had Danny cared what others thought anyway—and labeled her his mascot.


Daniel knelt beside her. The scent of bay rum mingled with the pervasive air of hydraulic fluid. "What else can you do for him?"


Mary Elise focused on the hydraulic fluid. Fat lot of good it did her with the warmth of Danny's arm inches away from her breast. "His nebulizer's in the other bag. We can set that up if the Albuterol inhaler doesn't do the trick."


Trey's heaving shoulders slowed.


She swept a hand over his pale brow. "Better, hon?"


The boy nodded.


Daniel held out his hand for the inhaler. "Hey, buddy, let me take that for you."


"You're not … my buddy. Don't even … know you."


Mary Elise stiffened.


Daniel stilled, then slowly retracted his hand. "That's right." His arms fell to rest on his knee. "We don't know each other. And we'll duke that one out later on terra firma back in the States. Right now you just take care of yourself."


Trey clamped his mouth shut and fixed his gaze somewhere over his brother's head.


Shoving to his feet by Tag, Daniel ruffled Austin's sweaty curls. "Hey there, sport."


Austin studied him with wary eyes, but at least not openly hostile. Daniel tugged off his flight gloves and reached into his thigh pocket. His hand whipped back out with a chocolate bar. "Snickers?"


Austin's brown eyes sparkled.


Mary Elise rose, Daniel topping her by only a few inches. A perfect fit. Double damn. "He's allergic to nuts."


"How about licorice?"


"He might choke."


Daniel's jaw flexed. "Three Musketeers bar?"


Mary Elise refrained from asking for an apple, a senseless request after the kid had already been offered candy. "That would be fine."


Daniel fished the treat out of his seemingly bottomless pocket for Austin, then turned back to his other brother.


Trey hunched back in the seat, arms tight across his chest. "I'm not hungry."


Uh-oh. The kid loved licorice. Mary Elise waited for Daniel's reaction. Prayed somewhere inside this harder new Daniel there still lived the Danny who'd sat with her during her bout with chicken pox, teaching her to play poker, tutoring her in math, making her laugh so she wouldn't scratch.


Shrugging, Daniel zipped his thigh pocket closed. "Fair enough. I have to head back up to the crew compartment. If you decide you're hungry later on, Tag here can give you a hand."


Mary Elise winged a silent thanks for the easy out Daniel offered Trey. Maybe they would be okay after all.


"Mary Elise?" Daniel called. "Got a second?"


Big-time uh-oh. She didn't want this talk right now, not when the old Danny still hovered in her memory.


Better pitch those sympathetic leanings back in the crate and maintain her distance. Keep it light. Do the old friends routine.


Old friends who happened to know every inch of each other's body.


Daniel cupped her elbow, his grip hot, firm—familiar. And it had been so long since a man had touched her. Her body absorbed the sensation. Stupid. Wrong.


But pulling away would lend too much importance to a simple gesture. She kept her eyes forward and suppressed a shiver. He was a good-looking guy, no question, in a rumpled way that defied her need for order.


Hormones, pure and simple.


The day's danger and stress left her vulnerable. That must be the reason she wanted to tuck against his broad chest, the only reason she yearned to savor the comfort of bay rum and chocolate.


Her eyes landed on the little round scar beside his brow. Two weeks after her recovery, Daniel's chicken pox had spread fast and furious. She'd brought a deck of cards to his house and reamed him out for not telling her he hadn't been exposed before. He'd just shrugged, scratching the corner of his eyebrow.


How could he be such a stranger and so familiar all at once?


His boots thudded along the metal tracks lining the belly of the plane as he put space between them and the boys. Tucked in a corner, he stopped, releasing her elbow. "Do I need to call ahead for an emergency landing?"


Mary Elise fingered the parachutes dangling from the wall for distraction. "I don't think so. Where would we land, anyway?"


"We can chance it in Turkey. Germany would be better."


"But?"


"It's safer if we press through straight for the States. Except of course Trey's health has to come first."


Intimacy wrapped around her, different from the sensual atmosphere of a few moments ago. Rather a more comfortable aura of two parents discussing their children. Each parent-style word sliced her insides with endless tiny paper cuts.


She forced herself to think of Trey. "I'll keep a close watch on him, especially for the next hour, but I think the worst has passed, now that he's away from the guard's smoke. Once we land, you could take him by the E.R. just to be certain."


"I'll have a flight surgeon waiting for us." Daniel lifted his headset from around his neck and readjusted the fit before plugging into the mounted outlet. "Wren, patch a call through to Charleston and have Doc Bennett meet us when we land. One of the boys has asthma and I want him checked out. Make sure Kathleen knows I'm the one asking."


Kathleen? An irrational jealousy stirred. Of course Daniel had women in his life, professionally and personally. Not that she cared.


Yeah, right.


Daniel flipped the mouthpiece away. "All set. Anything else we can do?"


She was finished playing out this bizarre pseudo-parenting game. She'd made her restitution to Daniel's father. No more guilt. The boys had their brother Danny now. He could feed them junk food until they spun out on sugar if he wished.


They weren't her children. Even considering assuming that role poured straight alcohol on every one of her internal paper cuts.


Mary Elise retreated deeper inside herself and away from Daniel's too familiar smile. "We'll be okay, except he's usually physically drained after an attack. Please pull the blankets out of the crate for me to spread out here so he can sleep."


Daniel watched her face tighten into the prim lines meant to distance him but instead made him want to gather up a fistful of her hair and kiss the look away. All the same, her autocratic coolness evicted their brief moment of connection.


For the best while he was trying like hell to find solid ground after being knocked on his ass over finding her in his plane. He wanted nothing more than to take an hour or ten to study this new Mary Elise in front of him. To understand her. But she wasn't a scientific equation.


A poised elegant woman stood in place of his freckled coltish friend. He'd be a fool not to notice her appeal. He'd be an even bigger fool to act on it.


Those two boys needed him. Austin would likely be a snap to figure out. The imp had a gleam in his eyes Daniel recognized well. Trey, however, looked so much like their imperious old man, he could already predict the head butting.


Time to get his mind the hell off unforgettable red hair and gentle curves.


Daniel dropped his hand from the side of the plane and allowed extra air to slide between them before he fell victim to the temptation to untangle a strand of her hair from her gold hoop earring. "There are two crew-rest bunks. We can put the boys there."


"Does that break some kind of regulation? What about the crew's sleep?" She straightened both of the rings on her right hand—a ruby dinner ring on her middle finger and on her thumb, a large gold band worn only half way down.


Too large to have been her wedding ring.


What had she done with her band after her divorce? She'd mailed his engagement solitaire to him once he'd returned to the Academy, in spite of his insistence that she keep it.


The diamond ring burned a hole in his sleeve pocket even now, a constant reminder to learn from past mistakes. "This whole mission breaks regs. I'm not overly concerned about a little technicality such as where they sleep. The crew can rack back here if they need to catch a nap."


The plane jostled on an air pocket. His hand shot up instinctively to brace her waist. Her familiar scent of honeysuckle teased his nose.


His hand cupped her ribs, the underside of her breast heating his skin. Small, soft. Perfect.


Were her br**sts as sensitive as they'd been in the early weeks of her pregnancy? They'd spent every one of those post-pregnancy test days exploring each other's bodies without fear of consequence since the consequences had already occurred.


The heat of her now fired memories. Fired him. If he moved his thumb…


His headset crackled in his ears.


"Crusty?" Renshaw called. "Wanna finish that update, please?"


He jerked his hand away and flipped the mouthpiece in place. "The nanny opted not to join us and sent a substitute. We have a stowaway."


"Stowaway?" Bo Rokowsky piped up. "Man or woman?"


Daniel's hand clenched around the memory of warm silk and soft Mary Elise against his hand. "Woman."


"Is she hot?"


Yes. Hell, yes. "Not germane to the mission, Rokowsky."


"'Cause if she is, I'll take over down there and you can come up here."


"Can it, Bo."


"Touchy, touchy. Or maybe not enough touching lately in spite of all those women wanting to cook you dinner and iron your flight suits."


So what if he enjoyed a few casserole gifts now and again? Big freaking deal, and nothing compared to Rokowsky's history with women.


He wouldn't discuss Mary Elise over interphone with the squadron Casanova. A man who sure as hell wasn't getting anywhere near her during this flight. "Keep this up and I'll tell her what your call sign stands for, 'Bo.'" The guy's real name had long ago faded from memories as he'd gone by Bo since training days. "Meanwhile, how about working on flying the plane or something?"


Daniel flipped the mouthpiece aside again. "We need to talk."