Her chin lifted. Heat seared through her lungs, lifting her chest, and she slowly tried to control her body. No way would she let him see how difficult he made it for her to breathe—even after all this time.
He wore faded jeans over long legs and a dark T-shirt across a broad chest—no uniform. But the gun strapped to his leg was military issue, now wasn’t it? The weapon, so silent and deadly, appeared at home on his muscled thigh.
His dark brown hair, glinting with red highlights, now almost reached his shoulders. Very different from the buzz cut he’d had years before. His eyes, the green of a Scotland moor, held secrets, unplumbed depths, and promise. Chiseled face, hard jaw, and definite warrior features proudly proclaimed his ancestry, and even now, she could see the Highlander in him.
The door banged shut behind her, and she jumped.
He gestured toward the seat across from the one he’d occupied. The engines roared to life.
She faltered. “Where are we going?”
He reached into an overhead compartment and drew out a plush blanket. “D.C.”
The plane lurched forward, and she stumbled. He grasped her arm, shooting an electrical jolt up her bicep.
His eyes darkened. “I’d wondered.”
“Me too.” As kids, they’d been combustible. So she hadn’t imagined the spark from years ago. She blinked confusion from her vision and allowed him to settle her into the seat. The second he covered her legs with the warm blanket, she finally took a deep breath.
He sat down, gaze somber. “You haven’t responded to my proposition.”
Her head jerked back. “This isn’t, I mean, you—” She gestured around the luxurious plane.
His lips twitched. “No. I did not execute a military extraction and secure three private jets to force you into making up your mind to meet me in person now that I’m settled in the States. Finally.”
She plucked at a string on the blanket. “I didn’t think so.” They’d kept in touch through the years, and when he’d sent her an email two months ago, saying he wanted to meet up with her, she’d needed time to think about it. “I was hoping to use my vacation time in Hawaii to consider, well, us.”
Thoughtfulness, sexy and focused, crossed his rugged cheekbones. “I appreciate that. I’ve been wondering lately if I should’ve fought the divorce.”
Fought it eight years ago? Surprise and a silly feminine hope flushed through her. They’d been married at eighteen and divorced at twenty-five. They’d spent more time apart than together during the marriage with him in the military and her pursuing various degrees. “We were just kids.” The plane lifted in the air, and she tried to relax against the leather. “You said you work for the government now, Deacan.”
“I do.” He tugged a table from the wall and secured the legs.
“Which branch?” she asked softly. What in the hell was going on?
He reached into a duffel bag to retrieve a laptop. “Doesn’t have a name.”
Yeah, she’d figured. Supersecret, code-name, hidden organization. “In your email, you said you had your head on straight and had finished your time as a soldier.”
He placed the laptop on the table to their right, facing them. “I do. I work in the States and for the most part invent strategy and the like. No more violence, and I’ve dealt with the anger.”
She nodded, her body rioting at his nearness. The gun strapped to his leg hinted at another agenda, and she needed time away from him to really figure out if she wanted him in her life again—even as a friend. Leaving him before had nearly destroyed her, and she’d built a good life in Seattle. A safe life. Okay, a boring life. “Why am I here?”
His very presence affected the oxygen, because her lungs quit working properly. He smiled, as if knowing, and waited until the laptop came on. “You’re here because of this.”
She leaned toward him and turned to the side to see a picture of a round blue shape covered by long spikes. Definitely a bacterium. “Coccus shape, mobile, looks a little likeStaphylococcus.” She frowned and squinted. “I don’t recognize it, though.”
Deke exhaled, and impressive muscles shifted beneath his shirt. “No. It’s new.”
She blinked. “New?” Fascinating, but not unusual. Her heart started to thrum harder. “What’s the rate of growth?”
“It duplicates in an hour.”
Fast, but not unheard of. She leaned back. “What’s going on, Deacan?”
He scrubbed both hands down his face. “You’re the best microbiologist in the country.”
She bit back a snort. “Lynne Harmony would disagree with you.”
