Hot Zone Read online

  Jessica cursed under her breath. She hadn't heard his approach, but Jake had followed her, his step silenced by recently fallen rose petals on the walkway. She didn't want his company. Or, his smart mouthed wise cracks.

  "Checking in or checking up on him?” His macho comment scratched her desire to slug him.

  "My private life is just that. Private."

  "Sensitive subject, huh?"

  "I signed on down here to work, not dish the dirt with my nosy partner."

  "That's what I like about you, Fontana.” Jake looked around and toed several petals near his foot. “You're always on, always ready with an answer."

  "It doesn't matter what you like."

  "Well, sure it does."

  "That's your opinion."

  "Here's the deal. Partners that get along don't get their partners killed near as often.” He grimaced after looking at his watch. “That's a scientific fact."

  Jessica wanted to remind him the damned watch was a dud. “Do you know how pathetic you sound?"

  "Do I?” His smile was designed to melt the heart of any female looking for a man.

  She wasn't, so the smile was wasted on her. “What do you think?"

  The immediate subject was momentarily put aside. Jessica wasn't immune to the sweet perfume of the crimson roses climbing to the arbor above her head.

  The whole scene reminded her that she was a woman that loved sensuous things, silk sheets and champagne served in a bed of down pillows and toys of her choice.

  Several petals fell onto her shoulder, and the scent was heady. She brushed them off and looked at him where he stood checking the area out with a disinterested glance.

  "First time I've been out here."

  She believed that. He was in all likelihood, the typical male, not interested in much outside of his job and his next woman. “I'm not surprised."

  He came to stand in front of her, reaching out to take a petal from her hair. “What makes you say that?"

  "Men don't usually go for gardens and birds.” She would not back down no matter how wolfish his smile or how near he stood.

  "That's not true. You'll find out that I'm a sensitive guy."

  "Sure.” She avoided eye contact with him. “How did I ever miss that?” Jessica turned to go back inside, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

  "Most women see that right off.” He had the good grace to laugh at himself.

  "Stop trying to melt my heart and let's get that plane up in the air."

  "Hey, I'm liking you better all the time."

  They went inside and walked down the quiet hallway, and Jessica glanced at his profile several times. He finally caught her furtive glance.

  "Okay, what were you really doing out there? Crying?"

  He was teasing, and she liked that for some immature reason. “You're a real clod. Actually, I was trying to think of ways to keep from making you cry, wise guy."

  His lips moved in a hint of a smile, reason enough to make her want to slug him, but she chose to be professional. “Let's get back to work."

  There was time for a few more comments to let him know being the underling in the mission did not put her off. “Just to make sure there are no arguments when we get to the airfield, I'm piloting this run.” The blue of his eyes darkened to a stormy hue, his speculative gaze measuring her worth. “You have any quarrel with that, Claypool?"

  The tease was back in his deep voice. “You're going to try to scare me."

  She laughed in her most sinister tone. “You want to skip the trial run?"

  "I wouldn't miss this."

  The sensuous scent of his cologne wafted from his warm skin, making his close proximity triply unnerving. She tried not to, but Jessica couldn't miss noticing the strength of his hand that gripped the door handle.

  He casually touched the small of her back and opened the conference room door for her. “You still have rose petals in your hair."

  "Does it bother you?"

  "Only in the best possible way."

  * * * *

  Jake went through the routine checklist with Fontana, taking the role of copilot. He didn't mind. If she needed help, he'd be there to pull her bacon out of the fire.

  He sat beside her, doing and saying all the correct things, but the crazy zing in his blood was far from regulations. Maybe he was low on sugar or too full of testosterone.

  Playing with ideas like that was nuts. Jake tried to catch her doing something wrong to ease the tension in his muscles. Maybe he should wait until they were back to lay it on her. She might try to kick him out of the cargo door. No better time than now to let her know who was in charge.

  "Fontana, you need to trim your flaps."

  The stare she gave him was as good as a slap in his face. “Let me do my job Claypool, and we'll get along fine."

  "Not likely.” His mumbled quip drew an icy glare from her. Things were looking up.

  He couldn't help it if his smile was smug. He looked forward to sharing some excitement with the caustic Fontana.

  With nothing to complain about, Jake could only sit back and admire the smooth take off she executed with the plane. She handled herself and the Baron with ease and seemed to have forgotten he was on board.

  She took care of the detail work, checking fuel, altitude, and, once, even him. Once they were trimmed and flying level, she whipped out her leather bound notebook and began writing.

  Jake made no secret of trying to read her scribble. “What did you say about me?"

  She snapped the book shut. “How big is your ego?"

  Teasing her was addictive. “Hell, Fontana. You're not fretting over the age difference thing, are you?"

  He took the notebook and opened it to the last entry. There was nothing in it but accounts on the planes performance and regulations.

  He looked up to see her knowing smile. Her voice was laced with superiority when she spoke.

  "Does it meet with your expectations, Claypool?"

  "A mite skimpy on details.” Jake couldn't think of anything else once he'd noticed the perfect exposure of breast Fontana revealed each time she leaned over or turned to the side.

  Mind out of her bra. He straightened his headphones and looked out the window. She ended the silence with her usual wit.

  "You must be thinking dirty thoughts to be so quiet.” There was a definite smirk of superiority on her face.

  "Not at all.” He didn't know if he liked her being able to read him so easily. He changed the subject to one that interested him. “So, what does your man do while you're off on a mission?"

  "I don't ask him."

  "You're not hooked up, are you?” He mentally high-fived himself for guessing her life situation.

  "I'm not sure."

  "The guy in the picture?"

  "Yeah."

  Jake thought it was time to change the direction of the conversation. A woman thinking about another man wasn't good company. Plus, she was still flying the plane.

  He looked around the Spartan interior of the aircraft. “They did a number on this baby. Not even a port-a-potty.” Jake got up, moving to the rear of the plane.

  Something was in the air, and he couldn't identify the aroma.

  Fontana glanced back at him. “What's going on?"

  He nosed around in the area that had been a small galley. “Smell that? I think they missed some black tar."

  He went back to the cockpit and grabbed a flashlight. She turned to watch as he checked out the gutted plane. Noticing her intent stare, he pointed to her. “Just fly the plane."

  She obviously took him seriously that there could be a problem. Her voice was a level monotone when she spoke. “We'll have the plane gone over again. No use taking chances."

  He dropped into the seat next to her. “It's probably nothing."

  "It's only nothing if your not five thousand feet in the air."

  Jake grimaced with renewed irritation at being partnered with miss know-it-all. This was going to be some kind of tri
p with a woman that thought she knew everything.

  He glanced at her again, wondering if she was really hooked up with that guy or using his picture to discourage other men.

  Being a true red, white, and blue American male, he would have to test the waters, when they were back on solid ground.

  Chapter Seven

  Jessica dreaded getting off the plane. She stared out at the heavy rain that washed over the cockpit windows. The rainstorm that had been only a threat was now a full-fledged thunderstorm complete with ground shaking lightning and crashing thunder.

  After they taxied to a stop at the end of the runway assigned to them, the pounding rain on the windshield reminded Jessica of the misery waiting outside. She shrugged and turned up her collar.

  "No use sitting here."

  Jake stared out at the rain, then at her. “You're kidding."

  "You won't melt.” She buttoned her sweater vest over her journal. “Gee, I wish I had a coat or something.” She was a specialist at appearing defenseless and eyed him with all the piety she possessed.

  He obligingly shrugged out of the coat and handed it to her. “I must be crazy."

  For a split second, she felt guilty. He looked so gallant leading the way off the plane without any kind of protection, for a second she felt guilty for taking his coat.

  She wanted to get back on the plane after stepping out into a cold blast of rain and small debris that flew around their heads. He took her hand and ran toward the terminal. He slowed down and shouted his question.

  "Where the hell did we park?"

  She saw the welcome glow of lights from the terminal, urging him to hurry. “Let's get out of this and then worry about the car!"

  He held her hand and tugged her along through puddles and small rivers that rushed under their feet.

  From beneath the jacket she held over her head, Jessica could see rainwater running swiftly across the concrete. Her shoes were ruined and her slacks were soggy up to her knees.

  Jake hugged her waist and moved her along at a faster pace. His laughter was unexpected and contagious.

  "Fontana.” He bumped her hip with his. “Want to share that coat?"

  "What? You think I'm crazy?"

  They ran toward the blurred lights that were barely visible above a small door marked Private. She was breathless as Jake drew her to the door and opened it, pulling her inside the hallway.

  They were gasping for breath and laughing, not moving apart in reserved coolness.

  Instead, their bodies brushed lightly with no excuses or sudden separation.

  She probably shouldn't let his hand graze her cheek?. How was she to respond negatively while suspended in a sweet, quiet net of misconduct? She gripped his wrist, swaying to and fro in the unfamiliar sensation.

  Droplets of water fell from his hair and splashed onto her lips. She licked her lips, the moisture tasting like an exotic potion.

  Her gaze traveled to his mouth. There was nothing boyish about his smile. Jessica was convinced her legs would cave when he touched his forehead to hers.

  The overhead lights blinked, a signal from a higher power to break it up immediately.

  "I think it's time to find the car.” She removed his hands from her waist and handed him the dripping coat. “Thanks for the loan. I'll have it cleaned for you."

  She had one last quick glance. Only a man could look that sexy while soaking wet.

  In the deserted hallway, the fury of the storm was muted into a distant hum. Her eyes closed as he brushed raindrops from her cheek. He dropped his hand and glanced around.

  "We better get a hustle on."

  He moved away from her, raking his wet hair with his fingers. He looked uncomfortable.

  "What's wrong, Claypool? Does being alone with me make you nervous?"

  "That'll be the day."

  She'd hoped he'd taken that as friendly teasing. Stupid woman. His smoldering gaze dipped inside her most private feelings and needs.

  She smoothed the wrinkled material of her slacks. “Hey, Claypool. I was just messing with you."

  He smiled speculatively at her before swinging his drenched coat over his shoulder. “Come on. Unless you have something else in mind."

  Well, of course she did, but her conscience kept reminding her she wasn't free to make that move.

  Thirty minutes later, Jessica shivered in the chilled air-conditioned conference room back at HSD. Taking the waterlogged sweater vest off had been an error in judgment. Her nipples immediately peaked, and Jake couldn't seem to keep his eyes in their sockets. The fabric of her blouse adhered to her breasts, making it impossible to cover the situation.

  She headed for the washroom where she sat under the hand dryer for twenty minutes before going back to the conference room.

  Something new buzzed in the air. Frank was in the room. That probably meant everything was cleared.

  Jake handed her a copy of the latest fax on Azizi. “Looks like the short man has a fool that's holding a dirty bomb for him.” He flicked the paper she tried to read. “He's been offering a cool million to anyone willing to sell it to him."

  She sat down in the chair next to him and read the complete message, frowning at the total waste of human life. “Wouldn't it be nice if he'd use that money to alleviate the poverty in his country?"

  "No figuring a screwball like that.” Jake handed her a stack of black and white photos. “Lots of new photos of him and his jungle palace."

  She sorted through the pictures, pausing to study the stucco and tile hacienda. The place would be beautiful if it didn't harbor a serpent.

  Frank sat down and sipped the soft drink he'd brought with him. I read your report on the plane's condition. Our mechanics are going over it right now.” He gave Jake a copy of their final orders. “You're leaving here at 0600 hundred hours."

  Jessica wasn't nervous about the flight. Maybe a little, but a lot more nervous about being alone with Jake, and no claim to having a man to be true to. Get over yourself, woman. He's not anymore interested in you than Peter is! You're perfectly safe.

  Frank startled her back into the present.

  He looked at her then at Jake. “Do you have any questions? Concerns or gripes? This is your final briefing."

  Jessica glanced at Jake and then shook her head. “I'm clear and ready to leave.

  Just as she thought he would, Jake had a question.

  "Is this weather supposed to be breaking before we take off?"

  Frank shrugged. “The weatherman says the front will be out of here by then. We go fair or foul.” He got up and walked toward his office, turning to look back out at them before closing the door. “Good luck."

  Jake grabbed his jacket, turning to look at her. “Come on, I'll drive you home."

  Jessica felt the usual lift in her blood pressure that hit each time she was going on a mission. Part of her wanted to engage Jake in conversation, part of her said no. He wasn't the type to discuss feelings.

  Conversation was sparse during the ride to her hotel. She stopped him at the elevator when it appeared he wanted to go further. His hand on her back skated upwards to caress the lobe of her ear.

  She wasn't immune to the smoldering heat in his gaze or his invitation.

  "Want company for dinner?"

  "How about a rain-check?"

  He picked up her keys, dangling them on his fingers, their soft jingle pleasant, like his voice. “Sure you don't want me to check your suite for varmints?"

  As much as she enjoyed the by-play, Jessica ended it. “I think it's fine.” Acting disinterested was almost impossible. “Goodnight Claypool."

  The elevators opened, and she stepped inside. By the time she turned around, Jake was deep in conversation with a stunning blond in a scarlet dress.

  She had wasted all that charm on a playboy. Served her right for the self-assured conceit she'd suddenly developed. Jessica, you're a fool.

  By the time she had opened the door to her suite, all she wanted was a warm s
hower and someone to hold her. The thought didn't shock her. She had been experiencing the nagging need for weeks and being around a male like Jake brought the hunger to the surface.

  Her face was set into a hard grimace of distaste when she caught her reflection in the closet mirror. Hair hanging in limp strands and makeup smeared in comedic slashes around her eyes.

  She'd hurriedly dried her face before leaving the washroom, not taking into consideration the water in her hair would play havoc as it dripped down to melt her makeup.

  Was it any wonder Jake hadn't wanted to kiss her? Thank heavens he hadn't. In her mental condition she would have loved it.

  While she showered, Jessica remembered Jake's interest in her perfume. At least his appreciation of expensive things was fine-tuned.

  The scent, a delicate and sensual apple blossom essence, had been designed for her while she was on a mission in Paris. Knowing a perfume manufacturer was a perk for a two-month assignment. He had taken a keen interest in her. Paris. She'd loved the place.

  The shopping was fabulous, but her only contact with the male populace had been the creep she'd arrested for selling military secrets. As usual, her luck with men had been right on target. Then, she met Peter. Now, she had a new vacancy looming in her future.

  Now, she had something new going on in her life. An itch for her partner. It had to stop. No matter what happened with Peter.

  After her shower, she dressed in a short white wrap-skirt and red cap sleeved blouse. She piled her hair up on top of her head and secured it with a large pearl clip. Good enough. Too hungry to fuss, she dropped her weapon in her bag and headed out for the dining room.

  The dining room was crowded, and Jessica was ill at ease taking a table while couples waited.

  She decided to hurry things up and ordered a piece of pecan pie and coffee. What a dinner. If it didn't do the trick, there was always the pizza place across the street.

  While she waited for her food, Jessica looked around. A young couple with a baby, and across the way, an elderly couple laughed over a shared intimacy.

  The dining room was pleasant and her corner table perfect for people watching. Her waitress brought her pie and coffee, giving Jessica a knowing smile before she hurried away.

  My God. She feels sorry for me.