“Tell me, baby,” Mallory whispered. She framed Jac’s face. Kissed her. “Trust me.”

“I’ve only ever gone it alone,” Jac murmured. “No matter what—it was always just me. One-on-one with whatever bomb lay in my path. I never had a partner.” She pressed closer, needing Mallory’s fire to melt the frozen wasteland of her isolation. “You have no idea what my father is capable of.”

Mallory threaded her fingers through Jac’s hair and kissed her mouth, the angle of her jaw, the spot below her ear that made Jac tremble. “I know I don’t. But none of this is about your father. Only us.”

“Not for much longer,” Jac said. She forced her fingers to relax their death grip on Mallory’s hips and backed away. She unlocked her locker and swung open the door. She didn’t want to look at the photograph taped inside, but pretending it wasn’t there wouldn’t help. Behind her, she heard Mallory gasp. The image was grainy, but it was easy to see her and Mallory about to kiss.

Chapter Twenty-eight

“What the hell,” Mallory exclaimed. “Where did that come from?”

“It’s a shot from Tommy’s that night we all went out. The background has been touched up so you can’t tell we were actually only dancing and not in the midst of a clinch.”

“I know but—how? We didn’t—”

Jac ripped it down and turned it over. She read out the barely legible pencil scrawl. “‘If you don’t want your girlfriend splashed all over the newspapers, maybe you should take the season off.’” She handed it to Mallory.

Mallory’s hands were steady as she held the image and read the words. “Someone from here did this.” She flicked the edge of the photograph with her fingernail. “The question is, why?”

“Obviously someone doesn’t like us very much. Or maybe just me.” Jac leaned back against her locker, looking so damned defeated Mallory wanted to pound something. “God, Mal, this is only the beginning of something bad.”

“Jac,” Mallory said gently, squashing her fury, “let’s get some sleep. We can tackle this later today.”

Jac nodded, methodically pulling jeans and a T-shirt from her locker. She tugged them on without underwear, her eyes slightly unfocused, her hands trembling ever so slightly. Mallory would gladly have murdered whoever had put that photo in Jac’s locker. The only reason she wasn’t raging around the locker room, kicking doors, was because Jac needed her to be steady. She didn’t doubt for a second that Jac’s fears were justified. She’d heard enough of Jac’s past and read more than enough in the newspapers to know that Jac had had precious little privacy in her life. She’d witnessed how Jac’s father subtly and not so subtly controlled Jac’s life when attempts to turn Jac into some mythical ideal daughter had failed—even though Jac was damn exceptional all on her own. Jac had put her family first time and time again, but not this time. This time, Mallory intended to do whatever she could to see that Jac didn’t become a pawn in her father’s political game. But right now, Jac needed something a lot more immediate. She needed to be safe, and she needed to be able to let down her guard without fear.

Mallory grabbed sweats and a zip-up fleece from her locker, dressed, packed up their SAR gear, and stowed everything on a shelf. She’d sort the equipment out later. She hesitated, then unclipped her radio and called Sully. “Sul? You copy?”

“You back, Ice?” Sully’s scratchy voice replied.

“Yeah, just got in.” Mallory watched Jac shove her bare feet into her boots. Jac was either dog-tired or a lot more upset than she wanted to let on. Either way, it didn’t matter. Mallory was going to take care of it. “I’m taking me and Russo off call until tomorrow at oh six hundred, Sul.”

“Roger that,” Sully came back instantly. “We’re good here.”

“Copy that. See you tomorrow.” Mallory turned off her radio and put it with the rest of the gear.

Jac frowned. “How many times have you gone off call during the season?”

“What does it matter?” Mallory slung her arm around Jac’s waist. “Time to hit the loft.”

“Mal, how many times?”

“Never. Come on.”

“Damn it,” Jac muttered. “It’s already starting. I don’t want you—”

Mallory kissed her to shut her up, since making her drop and do fifty push-ups wasn’t an option any longer. Somewhere up on that snow-covered mountainside they’d gone from trainer and trainee to partners. And besides, kissing her was so much better. So, so much better. When she’d had her fill of tasting her, luxuriating in the slow burn of Jac’s mouth, she whispered, “This is about what I want, Jac. What I need today. You. I need you.”

“Okay, yes. Anything.” Jac leaned into her, accepting her support. “I should call my father—”

“Later. You’re going to get some sleep first. Do you need a pain pill for your shoulder?”

“No, the shower helped a lot.” Jac grinned, something of her old spirit flashing in her eyes. “And the rest of the water therapy was pretty effective too.”

“Oh, it was, was it?” Mallory kissed her again, just a touch of lips this time, not enough to get them started, and it wouldn’t take much. At least not for her. Just looking at Jac made her want to get Jac’s clothes off again and touch her everywhere. Somehow, Jac had turned the tables on her, and she still wasn’t quite sure how that had happened. She felt fabulous—she still buzzed inside, outside, everywhere. She wanted Jac’s hands on her again, inside her again, and a hell of a lot more. “We should go now.”

“Oh yeah?” Jac’s gaze dropped down Mallory’s body and then slowly tracked back to her face. “Why is that?”

“You know damn well why. If you don’t, I’m doing something wrong.”

“Oh no, you’re not doing anything wrong.” Jac cupped Mallory’s neck and kissed her, harder than Mallory had kissed her, longer and deeper, and Mallory started to melt.

“Stop,” Mallory whispered, bracing her palm against Jac’s chest. “I want you, damn it. And we need to get some sleep, and then we need to find out who the hell took that photo.”

Jac rested her forehead against Mallory’s. “I know. I know we do. But God, Mal—I want you so damn much. I’ve never felt so much with anyone. For anyone.”

“No one has ever made me want to feel so much,” Mallory said, and the terror came racing back. She firmly shoved it aside. She wasn’t letting the past in, not for a few hours. All she wanted was the unbelievable joy of being with Jac. Of touching her, holding her, pleasing her. Later, later she could worry about what everything meant. Mallory tugged Jac’s bottom lip between her teeth. One more kiss and she’d lose it. She pushed away. “We’ve got time.”

Jac didn’t look like she believed her, but she grasped Mallory’s hand and set out with her across the deserted yard. The hangar was dark and empty. Mallory could almost believe they were the only two people in the world, and that was exactly the way she wanted it. Today her radio was off, and she wasn’t responsible for anyone or to anyone, except the woman beside her. She wasn’t going to think about the rest of the season, or Jac’s father’s campaign, or someone who wanted to harass them—or worse. She was with Jac, with nothing between them, and the sensation was exhilarating, arousing, satisfying, downright wonderful.

“Go up,” Mallory said when they reached the foot of the ladder to the loft. “I want to put a message on my phone to reroute emergency calls to another station.”

“Don’t be long,” Jac murmured and kissed her.

Mallory admired the snug fit of Jac’s jeans and her tight, tempting ass until Jac disappeared overhead. When she got her brain working again, she rang the regional call center, signed out for twenty-four hours, and climbed up to the warm, dimly lit loft. Jac stood motionless between the two cots, her back to Mallory, as if uncertain as to what to do next. Mallory gripped the back of Jac’s waistband and pulled her back into her arms. She wrapped both arms around Jac’s middle and kissed the back of her neck. Jac smelled of coconut shampoo and her own unique mix of earth and sun. Mallory felt herself get wet, felt herself swelling, and she loved the feeling. She loved how she came alive whenever she touched Jac. She wasn’t cold inside, she was molten. “You don’t think you’re gonna be sleeping in that cot across from me, do you?”

Jac covered Mallory’s hands with hers. “I’m sure hoping not, but I don’t think one of those cots will hold both of us.”

“Neither do I.” Mallory turned Jac in her arms and clasped Jac’s butt, rocking her pelvis against Jac’s. She watched Jac’s eyes darken, loving the effect she had on her. “You could consider today the first day of the final field training. We’ll rough it and put the sleeping bags on the floor.”

“Roughing it, huh?” Thinking she could sleep on a rock pile if Mallory was next to her, Jac dipped her head to nibble at Mallory’s neck. She licked her way up to the tender spot beneath Mallory’s ear, teasing with her teeth until Mallory moaned. Mallory’s sharp intake of breath struck Jac in the pit of her stomach like a hammer blow. Her legs got weak, and her heart thundered like she’d just finished running the obstacle course with a full pack. “I can’t touch you without getting hot, Mal. I’m so wrecked.”

Mallory gripped Jac’s hips and pushed away from her with a satisfied grin. “Is that right?”

Mute, Jac just nodded, her pulse beating a crazy tattoo in her head, her chest, between her legs.

“I think I can take care of that,” Mallory whispered. “Don’t move.” She reached behind her, grabbed her sleeping bag off the foot of her cot, and tossed it onto the floor. She bent and quickly opened it, pulled Jac’s bag down and layered it over hers, and folded back the top to expose the soft flannel lining. “There.” Mallory swiveled on her knees in front of Jac and put her hands on either side of Jac’s fly. When she looked up, her lips parted as if she were very, very hungry.