Chapter Ten

“Lieutenant Donovan, what were you doing at the Officer’s Club that night at 1900?” Jason Lewis asked smoothly as he moved toward the chair where Callie sat. He straightened the sleeve of his gray, eight-hundred-dollar, Italian silk suit and gave her a brief, perfunctory smile before turning around and giving the board a deferential nod, acknowledging their power over the proceedings.

Callie forced her emotions, her fear, into a place deep within herself. She knew that above all, Lewis was going to try to poke holes into the truth of what had happened—to make Remington look like the victim instead of the harasser. She looked up at the small, solid man. His bulldog-type face was complete with jowls. Obviously Lewis was getting wealthy practicing law in the civilian world, the extra flesh testament to the good life.

“As I said in my opening remarks, I was getting a quick meal before heading over to the college to teach my photography class.”

“Couldn’t you have gone to any junk-food drive-in just as easily?” he offered.

Callie hated the way Lewis was smiling—as if he were about to stab her. “The O Club was the closest,” she said.

“Or perhaps you knew that Commander Remington would be there?” he suggested, his voice silky.

Surprised, Callie felt her mouth drop open. “I beg your pardon?”

“Commander Remington always goes to the O Club after work to share a few beers with the boys, Lieutenant. Everyone knows that.”

Callie saw where Lewis was trying to lead her, and she shrugged. “Mr. Lewis, I resent the fact that you’re trying to make it look as if I deliberately went to the O Club to see Commander Remington. Nothing could be further from the truth. I spend eight to twelve hours a day, five days a week with him, and I certainly don’t wish to extend it beyond that.”

Raising his thin eyebrows, Lewis smiled deeply. “From what I understand, you’ve been chasing Commander Remington from the day you arrived here, Lieutenant Donovan.”

Callie stared at the attorney and was about to retort when she heard Ty’s voice.

“Mr. Lewis, I suggest you get away from innuendos and conjectures and stick to the facts about the night Lieutenant Donovan was attacked and assaulted by your client.”

Lewis dropped his smile for just a moment, glaring in Ty’s direction. He glanced over his shoulder at the board, and Commander Newton nodded his agreement.

“Of course,” he murmured smoothly, and smiled down at Callie, the seed successfully planted in the minds of the men on the board anyway. “What were you wearing to the O Club on the night in question—whatever your reason for being there?”

Callie hated the implication from Lewis. “I wore a simple white blouse, a denim skirt and sandals.”

“How provocative was the blouse, Lieutenant? How many buttons were unbuttoned? Did the blouse opening reveal the cleft of your breasts to anyone? Was it a transparent, see-through kind of material?”

Callie gasped. Before she could answer, Ty was again standing up.

“Mr. Lewis, I don’t really think you’re interested in what Lieutenant Donovan was wearing as much as in trying to establish in the board’s mind something else—to paint her as provocative or a tease. Will you please ask only one question at a time and wait to hear my client’s answers?”

Lewis rubbed his hands together and saw the board agree with Ballard. “Very well, Lieutenant, let’s go back to my original question. How provocative was the blouse you were wearing?”

Angry, Callie said, “It was a plain white blouse, Mr. Lewis.”

“Transparent in any way?”

“Of course not! It was 100 percent cotton and completely opaque.”

“Did it button down the front?”

“Yes.”

“How many buttons were buttoned?”

“All of them,” Callie grated.

“I see…. And the skirt, Lieutenant. How short was your skirt? You know, nowadays, miniskirts are in again.”

Holding on to her disintegrating temper, Callie realized she had to stop rising to Lewis’s bait. His job was to stir her up, get her angry and make her look to the board like a hysterical woman. “My denim skirt, which, by the way, is opaque and not transparent, falls halfway down my calves. It’s called a ballet-length skirt, Mr. Lewis, showing only my ankles.”

“I see.” He smiled. “And your sandals? Were they open-toed?”

“What pair of sandals isn’t?” Callie shot back coolly.

“Were your toenails painted?”

At a loss, Callie stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Were your toenails painted? For instance, a bright red color?”

“No.”

“What about your fingernails?”

“Mr. Lewis, I don’t wear any kind of makeup. Is that clear?”

“Perfume?” He lifted his nose and inhaled. “I can certainly smell that tantalizing, come-hither perfume you’re wearing, Lieutenant. Did you wear perfume the night in question?”

Callie chafed under Lewis’s implication that wearing any kind of nail polish, makeup or perfume would be signaling Remington that she was available for the kind of unwanted attention he gave her. That was what Lewis was trying to establish in the minds of the board. “I always wear a dab of perfume.”

“Perfume is very much a sexual signal, you know, Lieutenant Donovan,” he said silkily, smiling at the row of commanders. “It’s like a subtle indicator to men—a nonverbal message that you’re interested in them.”

“Objection!” Ty said, standing again. He nailed Lewis with a dark look. “I hope the board doesn’t buy into Mr. Lewis’s unqualified opinion about a woman wearing perfume. I will point out that Dr. Johnson can testify that harassers attack their targets regardless of what makeup or perfume the target is wearing. A woman should be allowed to dress any way she wants and not expect to be assaulted or harassed for it, any more than a man is for his choice of dress.”

Callie silently applauded Ty’s riposte to Lewis. She saw the lawyer scowl for just a moment, then, just as quickly, saw him smile again.

“Objection noted,” Commander Nelson said. “Mr. Lewis, proceed.”

“Of course. Now, Lieutenant, isn’t it true that you asked for a table close to the open bar area, where you knew Commander Remington and his friends were drinking?”

“Absolutely not. I had no idea he was in the club.”

“And that when you sat down, you were constantly looking toward the bar, searching for Commander Remington among the crowds of pilots?”

“No,” Callie exclaimed, her hands tightening in anger. Her heart was beginning a slow pounding. She could feel Lewis mentally stalking her, trying to make her look like something she had never been.

“And that once you spotted Commander Remington, you kept smiling at him, giving him long, significant glances that made him think you wanted him to come over to your table and visit with you?”

“Absolutely not! As a matter of fact, I was eating when I happened to glance up in that direction and saw a number of pilots pointing at me and talking about me. I suspected they were discussing the article that had come out in the previous Sunday’s newspaper. I did not realize Commander Remington was at the bar until he showed up at my table.” She glared at Lewis. “Unannounced and uninvited, I might add. I, in no way, wanted him near me in any sense of the word.”

“Now, Lieutenant Donovan,” Lewis said expansively, gesturing toward the row of pilots staring at her, “I have four witnesses who swear you were not only batting your eyelashes at Commander Remington, giving him come-hither glances, but had actually raised your hand and gestured for him to come over to your table. All four pilots saw you blow him a kiss while he stood at the bar.”

Outraged, Callie nearly leaped out of the chair. She gripped the armrest, her fingers digging into the wood. No! Terror gripped her as she realized that not only were the three pilots who’d sexually harassed her involved with such a blatant lie, but Lieutenant Clark, the pilot who had sat two tables away, was also going to lie to make her look as if she had asked for Remington’s advances.

For long seconds Callie sat tensely, trying to control her shock and fury. Lewis stood there smiling, looking impeccably cool and collected. She sat back, terror deluging her in a new way. If the board believed the four pilots’ concocted story, she would be found to be to blame, and it would be her career that would suffer cruelly from those lies. Never had Callie dreamed that the pilots might lie to such an extent. But then, at Annapolis, she’d seen the upperclassmen close ranks on her in a similar manner. Why should she expect this to be different?

“Mr. Lewis,” Callie rasped, her voice clear and carrying through the room with chilling authority, “I don’t care what made-up stories you’ve been fed by those three pilots, or by Lieutenant Clark. I at no time invited Commander Remington over to my table with a look or a gesture. I never even had eye contact with him.”

“As a matter of fact,” Lewis boomed, “when Commander Remington came over to your table, and you made a suggestive comment about your legs being even prettier than his wife’s—”

“That’s a lie! Commander Remington made a rude remark about my legs, Mr. Lewis. I tried to defuse his unwanted advance by saying that I was sure his wife had very nice legs, too.”

“—And you told Commander Remington that you’d like him and his two friends to escort you to your car after you’d eaten. Now,” Lewis purred, looking at the board significantly, “I don’t exactly call that minding your own business, Lieutenant Donovan. I call that being a tease. I call that asking for it.”

“Objection!” Ty thundered. He moved away from his chair and toward the center of the room, behind where Callie sat. “Mr. Lewis is conjecturing and putting words in the mouth of my client. He has again both asked the questions and answered them for her.”

“Agreed,” the leader of the tribunal said. “Sit down, Commander Ballard.”

Callie began to sweat in earnest now. She saw exactly how Lewis was going to paint her: she was a tease, she’d asked for Remington’s advances, and in the parking lot, when she’d decided not to ‘put out,’ she’d pushed them away.

Rubbing his hands together, Lewis slowly turned to her. “The way you walked through the parking lot was provocative, Lieutenant.”

“Mr. Lewis, a woman has a different walk than a man. I walked my usual walk. If you want to say it was provocative, then that’s your opinion.”

“That’s my client’s opinion,” Lewis said. “You were really swaying your hips, Lieutenant.” He used his hands to show the amount of exaggerated movement. “It was very pronounced swaying, Lieutenant, and Commander Remington and his friends saw it for what it was.”

“Really?” Callie demanded scathingly, glaring at the row of pilots. The lying bastards. “Why is it I’m the one who was attacked, humiliated and assaulted, and these officers and supposed gentlemen are crying foul over the way I walked?”

Lewis frowned and took a step back. “That’s not the way they see it, Lieutenant.”

“I can tell,” Callie snarled. “I didn’t ask for Commander Remington’s touches, nor did I ever agree to his innuendos about me, about my body. He made me terribly uncomfortable, and all I wanted to do was escape from the O Club and get out of his line of fire.”

“I see,” Lewis murmured. “Then would you like to tell the Board why it was you who reached out and touched Commander Remington’s neck, shoulder and arm with your hand?”

Gasping, Callie sat there in shock. Remington, who had done that exact thing to her in the parking lot, was simply turning everything around to make it look as if she were the aggressor, not him. “He touched me! I never touched him except to push him and those two other officers away from me!”

“Now, Lieutenant. The way I understand it, you not only caressed Commander Remington in a number of ways, but you placed his hand across your shoulders and pressed it to the side of your breast.”

Callie sat very still, allowing the silence to fall over the room. She locked eyes with Remington, who was barely smiling, his green eyes glittering, and she felt hatred. Lewis was standing beside her, rocking heel to toe in his expensive black Italian leather shoes. The shattering reality of what was going to happen filled her with nausea. It would be four pilots’ words against her own.

“Well?” Lewis goaded. “Answer the question, Lieutenant.”

Jerking a look up at the lawyer, Callie whispered, “I never invited Remington’s touch. I did not put his arm around my shoulders. I never pressed his hand to the side of my breast.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that you didn’t throw yourself bodily at Lieutenant Dale Oakley?”

“No,” Callie said with gritted teeth. “When Commander Remington threw his arm around me and started to touch my breast, I pushed him away. In doing so, I fell off balance and slammed into Lieutenant Oakley. He then threw his arms around me and tried to kiss me. I yelled, ‘Stop,’ but he wouldn’t listen. So I pushed him away and fell back against my car.”

“Lieutenant Thorson was your next target, and you moved provocatively into his arms and told him you were known as the Ice Queen, right? Didn’t you say that you liked the fact he had a Corvette and Armani suits, and that you liked his style?”

“Nothing could be further from the truth, Mr. Lewis, and I don’t see how you can stand there and defend such lies.”

“Will you kindly tell us your side of it?”

“Lieutenant Thorson reached out and grabbed me as I spun out of Lieutenant Oakley’s grip. He grabbed me and said, ‘Hey, look at this, guys—Ms. Ice Queen has fallen into my arms!’” Callie felt desperate. Her mind spun, looking for options, but there were none. She realized in despair that Ty Ballard could only do so much. For the next hour, she sweated out Lewis’s questions. Finally, he was finished.

As Callie sat in the chair waiting for Lieutenant Oakley’s counsel, a lieutenant commander, to come and begin cross-examining her, she wanted to run. There was no place to hide. There was no safety in any sense of the word. Trying to gather her strewn composure to deal with the next broadside fusillade to be leveled at her by Oakley’s counsel, Callie wished that 1700 would arrive. That was the time the board would halt questioning, until 0900 the next morning.

Ty could hardly wait for Commander Newton to close the hearing for the day. Callie sat pale and tense in the chair as the third counsel for the pilots finished questioning her. Her lips were compressed, and her hands remained in a knot on her lap. He could see the sheen of perspiration on her face and felt a mixture of anger and anguish. After everyone came to attention, Ty moved to where Callie sat. He placed his hand on her shoulder to signal that she was to remain sitting until the room emptied. Dr. Johnson also stood quietly beside her.

When the pilots and their counsels had left, he touched her elbow and met her weary gaze. “Can you stand?”

Just the touch of Ty’s hand sent a wave of stabilizing strength through her, and she managed a twist of her lips. “I don’t know how—I’ve been shot at and hit so many times, a corpse would feel better than I do.”

Ty grinned a little, sympathy in his eyes, and helped her stand. He forced himself to release her elbow and she slowly straightened and smoothed her wrinkled skirt. Marlene Johnson gently touched her shoulder.

“You did beautifully under the circumstances,” she said. “It’s not at all uncommon for counsels to take the position they did with you.”

“They twisted everything around,” Callie said, holding the psychiatrist’s compassionate gaze. “Everything. It just blew me away. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“You were expecting them to stay at least within the general realm of the truth,” Ty said. “And frankly, so was I.”

Dr. Johnson shook her head. “No, that’s not the way it works, Commander Ballard. I tried to warn you about such tactics several days ago when you came to my office.”

Angry with himself because he hadn’t listened to her he muttered, “I’m sorry I didn’t.” Giving Callie an apologetic look, Ty felt as if he’d abandoned her in some important way.

“Even if you had believed Dr. Johnson,” Callie said softly, moving and stretching her tense, aching muscles, “it wouldn’t have done any good.”

“Maybe not,” Ty said unhappily.

“I think,” Dr. Johnson said, “that what you two need is a good meal in a private, quiet spot. Let down, relax, and then talk about tomorrow’s maneuvers. Commander, it will be up to you to try to force these four pilots into slipping up and mixing their story lines. Somehow, you have to create doubt in the mind of the board, or they will definitely buy their story and Callie’s career will be destroyed.”

Glumly, Callie agreed. She stood next to Ty, adding her profound thanks to his as Dr. Johnson said good-night and left, agreeing to be back the next morning. The room was barren and silent. Callie glanced up, to find Ty’s face looking set and hard.

“I feel for you,” she murmured. “This isn’t going to look good for your career, either. Lewis is a pro at this. He’s impressing the board no matter what you try to do.”

With a nod, Ty touched her elbow. “I don’t regret being your counsel, Callie. I never will. We know the truth, and that’s what matters. Remember, my report is in the board’s hands, too. I saw it happening. They may want to discount your version because you’re a woman, but they can’t as easily discount mine, so don’t give up yet.”

Callie walked slowly out of the room with him. She desperately wanted to escape the suffocating climate the room symbolized.

“We’re lucky,” Ty said. “Since this hearing is being held on station, the press can’t get to us.” The passageway was devoid of people, narrow and silent. “Right now we could be swamped with cameras, lights and microphones stuck in our faces.”

“I guess there is some good news,” Callie said glumly.

He smiled slightly and pulled her to a halt. Making sure there were no prying eyes, he touched her arm. “I’ll follow you back to your apartment, and I want you to get into some comfortable old clothes.”

Puzzled, Callie searched his face, which suddenly looked less harsh. Looking into his eyes, which sparkled with intent, she asked, “Why?”

“Because,” Ty said, “I’m taking you to the ocean, to walk on the beach. We’ll stop at a delicatessen on the way and grab something to eat. A beach picnic. I think that’s what you need, and so do I.”

Grateful for his care, his insight into her emotional state, which was completely frayed, Callie managed a soft, hesitant smile. “You really are a breed apart from most of these pilots.”

Relieved that Callie was going along with his impromptu plan, Ty led her out of the Operations building and to the parking lot. Heat rolled in unrelenting waves across the black asphalt, while the sun hung low on the horizon.

“Don’t judge all pilots by these four,” he warned her. “Most aren’t like Remington. Oh, we may be ignorant about what sexual harassment is really all about, but once we learn what it is, Callie, we aren’t going to continue our practices. Believe me.”

As Ty opened the door of her car for her, Callie did believe that most of the navy pilots weren’t like Remington; she’d just had the bad luck of getting saddled with him at her job—and stuck in a situation where she had no choice but to fight back. As she leaned against the hot upholstery before starting the engine, she closed her eyes and allowed another layer of tension to dissolve. The ocean. How badly she needed to be there right now. Surprisingly, despite the trauma and tension of the day, Callie was looking forward to sharing it with Ty.

“I’m so glad you thought of this,” Callie said as she sat cross-legged on a dark blue cotton blanket. Across from her, Ty, dressed in a white polo shirt and tan shorts, lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, eating heartily from the variety of food that sat between them. If possible, he looked even more appealing because he was barefoot, his feet large and wide, dark hair covering his calves and well-formed thighs. A boyish quality had replaced today’s hard, eaglelike demeanor. Callie wondered if this was the real Ty Ballard—the man who seemed at ease next to the ocean enjoying the call of the sea gulls, the crash of the surf and reveling in the aura of peace.

“I’m glad I thought of it, too. It’s relaxing out here.” And they were alone. Most of the tourists were gone, since the sun was beginning to set. Ty reached for another sweet pickle and crunched it contentedly. The last hour had been bliss, in his opinion, although he didn’t share that thought with Callie. She sat facing the ocean, her legs drawn up. Wearing a loose, sleeveless plaid blouse and a pair of obviously old, tattered slacks that were frayed just below her knees, she presented a picture of tranquility to him. The soft, intermittent sea breeze ruffled her black hair and gave her a childlike look. Nowhere to be found was the navy officer who had graduated from Annapolis, and Ty was stunned by the change that the ocean brought in her.

Callie nibbled at the beef sandwich on sourdough bread, not really tasting it. She knew she had to eat to keep up her strength, that “round two” tomorrow morning would continue to shred her good name and career. Ty, on the other hand, was starved, and made no apologies for the fact he’d consumed two huge beef sandwiches, most of the sweet pickles and over half the potato salad. The bottle of wine was half-empty, and Callie picked up her plastic cup and sipped a little more of the rosñae liquid.

“There’s something healing about the ocean,” she murmured, holding the cup in front of her legs. Resting her chin on her drawn-up knees, Callie added, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could take this feeling that exists here back with us to that hearing? There wouldn’t be any lies, any negativity.”

Ty sat up and poured more wine into his cup. Callie’s voice was roughened with emotion, with a kind of hope that he knew didn’t exist for her in that hearing room. He ached to reach over and caress her pale cheek, smooth the tautness from her skin and take the darkness from her sad eyes.

“I know this is going to sound stupid,” he said, holding her gaze, “but while you were being savaged by Lewis, all I wanted to do was jump up, punch the guy out and then make my way down the line, starting with Remington, and beating the hell out of each of them until they told the real truth of what happened.”

A warmth touched Callie, and she drowned in the dark gray of Ty’s gaze. His voice was low, vibrating with feeling, and it made her feel better. For the hundredth time, Callie wanted to allow Ty to hold her, and yes, to kiss her again. His mouth was wonderfully shaped, the corners turning up a bit, giving him an impish quality. Ty had the ability to laugh, and that was something she felt was important. He also could laugh at himself. His ego was not as inflated as those of other pilots she’d known.

“The knight riding to rescue the damsel?” she teased.

“Something like that.” He sighed. “I guess old ways, ingrained habits, die hard, Callie. I found myself angrier than I’ve ever been in there today.”

“This isn’t a hearing, it’s an inquisition,” she said. “I’m a modern-day witch to be burned at the stake in the name of maintaining male dominance. This isn’t about finding the truth, it’s about covering up so that men don’t have to pay for their behavior. Boys will be boys.”

“I can’t disagree,” he murmured. “And I’ve got to tell you, I’m ashamed of what’s going on in there. I’m stunned that Remington would lie. That these pilots, who are supposed to be leaders showing the way to our enlisted people, are setting such a bad example.” With a shake of his head, he added, “I just wouldn’t have believed this unless I was there to see it.”

“I know,” Callie said softly, “that a lot of guys don’t understand what their sexual harassment does to us, Ty. It’s terrible. If they’d just ask one simple question before they did it, I think it would solve a lot of problems.”

“What question is that?” He took a sip of the wine, noticing how the pale gold of the sunset mirrored Callie’s beauty.

“Would they say or do the same thing to their sister, their wife or their daughter?”

“Good point. I see what you mean.”

“And if they wouldn’t, then they shouldn’t be doing it or saying it at all.”

Much later, Ty opened the door to her apartment for Callie. He didn’t want to leave, but knew he must. The shadowed look on Callie’s face convinced him she felt similarly. All evening he’d ached to hold her and kiss her. There was no one around the apartment, and Ty reached out and placed his hand on her upper arm.

“Come here,” he whispered, and gently pulled Callie toward him.

Her breath hitching, Callie moved into Ty’s embrace. Just the tenderness burning in his eyes made her forget everything—if only for a moment. How badly she had wanted this, wanted him. As he lifted his hand and caressed her cheek, she closed her eyes and pressed against his palm. A sigh escaped her as his arm tightened around her. His body was lean and strong. It was so easy to surrender to Ty’s touch, to his whispered words that spilled out near her ear.

“I want you,” he rasped, as he felt her arms move around his waist. “Just as day wants night, and the ocean needs the sands to race up on….”

Callie lifted her head and tilted it upward just in time to feel his mouth mold hotly against her own. The scent of Ty, his maleness, his tenderness as his mouth slid across hers, all combined to loosen her hold on reality. The board hearing no longer existed. Her career hanging in the balance no longer mattered. Just the hungry questing of his mouth against hers, his ragged breathing were important, and need thrummed through her.

Moments stolen out of time grew molten as she felt his fingers move languidly against her arched spine, and a moan came from deep within her. He was strong, sure, yet sensitive to her as he monitored the amount of pressure he placed against her soft, opened mouth. As the tip of his tongue slid tantalizingly across her lower lip, Callie felt the world start to tilt wildly out of balance. She was no longer thinking. She was just intensely feeling each of his caresses, his hungry, searching kisses and the sensation that she was, indeed, well loved.

Dazed, Callie pulled away and looked up at Ty’s dark face. Night had fallen and the streetlight to the left made his expression look like that of an eagle that had spotted its prey. But she felt anything but threatened in his arms, beneath his melting kisses and evocative touches. Her body vibrated with heat, color and rampant need. Never had anyone made her feel like this, and she sucked in a ragged breath.

“Take it easy,” he said thickly, easing Callie into the foyer and nudging the door closed with his heel. Ty didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to love her completely. The luster in Callie’s blue eyes was touched with desire. Her lips were parted, moist and begging to be ravished again. His body throbbed restlessly beneath his steel control, and it took every ounce of Ty’s inner strength not to pick Callie up and carry her to her bedroom.

The moments glided and dissolved together for Callie as she remained in Ty’s embrace. The gray of his eyes reminded her of a turbulent storm, and she, too, felt chaotic inside, her needs clashing with the pressures closing in around them. Where had the idea of being well loved come from? Tilting her head, she absorbed Ty’s hungry look. Could it be? But how? Callie had no answers, and she felt cheated by time, which wasn’t on their side.

“I should go,” Ty rasped with a sliver of a one-cornered smile, “but it’s the last thing I want to do, Callie. The last.”

She nodded faintly. Never had she wanted a man more than him, intuitively realizing that he wasn’t like the men of her past, but very different. “I—I know.”

“You feel the same way?” He didn’t dare believe Callie felt as deeply for him as he did about her. Yet, as she lifted those thick, black lashes and looked up at him, Ty felt his breath being torn from him.

“It’s so soon,” she whispered unsteadily. “I mean—” she avoided the burning look in his eyes “—I don’t normally fall like this….”

Ty’s heart soared and he felt as if his life had finally—after more than a year of penance—been handed back to him. He framed Callie’s face, poignantly aware of the tears in her eyes. “I know you don’t,” he said raggedly. “But I don’t care, sweetheart. I do care for you, for what you want of me. All you have to do is say the word, Callie. I won’t push you. I can’t.” Above all, Ty recognized that something in her past would never allow him to push her beyond the pace she set for them. Grateful that she longed for him as much as he did for her, an odd contentment spread through him. This was the sweetest wait that he would ever undertake. To have Callie come to him, walk into his arms and share herself with him in every way was a dream he’d never dared dream.

Reaching up, Callie touched Ty’s jaw. She felt the prickly beard beneath her palm and smiled softly. “It’s all so crazy.”

“Yes, everything is crazy.”

“Maybe it’s the situation,” Callie ventured as she allowed herself to explore his jaw and cheek. The burning light in Ty’s eyes made her feel bold in a new and exciting way. Each time she caressed his skin, she felt him tremble against her, reminding her of a race horse straining to run.

Ty shook his head and captured her hand. He kissed it. “The situation brought us together,” he said, “and if anything, I think it’s slowed down what would have happened if things were different.”

Callie couldn’t argue with Ty’s insight. “From the moment I saw you in the parking lot, I knew I’d be safe,” she admitted. “It was you. The look in your eyes.”

With a careless smile, Ty said, “Sweetheart, you hit me over the head with your beauty.”

Callie had never thought of herself as beautiful, but the way Ty said it made her believe he really saw her as that—and more. Heat rushed up her neck and into her face. The smile on Ty’s mouth translated to his eyes and she knew he liked her blush. As if reading her intentions, he slowly released her.

“Maybe when this board thing is over, we can get on with our lives,” Ty said, hope in his voice. “Would you like that?” Never had he wanted her to say yes more than now.

Smoothing her hair across her brow, she said, “I think I’d like that.”

“We need time,” Ty agreed. “And space.”

Callie understood at that moment just how much the board hearing had impinged upon their burgeoning relationship. “But if it hadn’t happened, we’d never have met.”

“That’s true,” Ty said. He reached over and gripped her hand. “Try and get a good night’s sleep tonight, all right?”

Shakily, Callie nodded, unable to slake the hunger that prowled through her for Ty. All she had to do was look at his very male mouth, the way it curved so confidently at the corners, and she went hot with need all over again. “Yes…I’ll try….”