Free Touch the Heavens by Lindsay McKenna Page B

mind raced with questions as he rocked her gently, listening to the last vestiges of the horror fleeing from her. Had she been involved in a crash? If she had, there was no one at TPS who knew about it. And if she had, how long ago? He ran his fingers down her long curved back, delighting in the firmness of her muscles. Experience told him the crash couldn’t have been more than a year ago because of her violent reaction.
    Slowly Chris’s breathing began to return to normal. He felt her breasts pressed against his chest, aware of the wild beat of her heart. Dan embraced her more tightly for a moment, dizzied by her ability to trust him. She was like a small child that had been frightened by a storm, clinging to him in muted silence. She stirred other awakening desires to life within him, but Dan made no move to capitalize upon the moment. She needed help and someone to hold her.
    “It’s all right, Raven,” he told her in a hushed voice. “You’re here, in the present now. The nightmare’s over. You’re here, with me, in your room at the BOQ.” How many times had he wakened in his barracks room thinking he was still reliving the horror of SAM missiles streaking toward his F-4, intent on obliterating him from the skies? And how long had it taken him to talk himself out of that state even though he had been pulled awake by his own screams? His own sobs? He had wanted to roll over and bury himself in the arms of a woman and find solace against those stalking ghosts of the past. Grimly Dan blinked back tears as he gazed down at Chris.
    No one had ever held him in the throes of those horrible nights. At least he could do that for Chris. Dan understood better than most what the warmth of a steadying body could do to bring someone back into the present. He gently brushed the wetness from her cheek, his face filled with concern. Chris was still trembling, her lips parted, contorted by powerful updrafts of emotions he could sense were violently alive within her. “It’s okay, honey,” he murmured, leaning down, placing a kiss on her temple. “Work through the fear. Don’t hang on to it. Just let it go....”
    Chris squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in the folds of his coat. “Oh, Dan...” she cried hoarsely.
    “I know, I know,” he crooned. But he didn’t know. Dan was stymied. If a crash was this traumatic, the pilots were put on waivers and given medical or psychological help to pull them through it so they could fly again. Chris had to have conquered it, or they wouldn’t have allowed her to come to TPS. Especially because of the pressures she would be under in order to learn to fly fighter planes. The medical people would not have certified her fit for flight duty if she hadn’t gotten herself together after the accident. It had to be something else. But what? He pursed his lips, gazing down at her pale drawn features. His heart felt torn from his chest. God, she looked so damn broken. So vulnerable. A soft groan escaped Dan, and he simply held her within the safety of his arms for a long, long time.
    Dan eventually shifted his position. He rested against the couch with Chris safely ensconced in his arms. The watch on his wrist read 9:00. Chris’s heart had quit beating like a frightened bird; her breathing was less chaotic, telling him she was now past the worst of it. He brushed her flushed cheek with his fingers one last time, aware of the smoothness of the skin. His body contracted with need of her—all of her. The natural fragrance of her skin, the smell of apricot that lingered in her black hair, were all powerful aphrodisiacs to his heightened senses. Dan controlled his desire to kiss those full, parted lips. But the desire that coursed through him was more than just physical desire for Chris. He wanted to love Chris, protect her. He needed her—Love? He tested the word carefully in his mind and heart. A tranquil sigh came from deep within Dan as he nuzzled his face against the silk of her