Are Men From Mars?: Are Men From Mars? / Venus, How Could You?

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She could tell he had hoped she could convince Mary Beth to call off the media. Without the media figuring into the situation, his helicopter would have been safe and his commander would have had less reason to keep her there. And he had to be just as eager to get rid of her as she was to leave. They couldn’t get along for more than five minutes at a time, mainly Maddie suspected, because they both liked being in control.

Well, I’m not giving in, Maddie vowed as she massaged her throbbing temples. But now that she had attempted to escape and he knew Mary Beth wasn’t calling off the bogus search, what would he do?

“How do you usually sleep? On your back? Or on your side?”

Maddie’s head came up to look at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“Do you sleep on your back? Or do you sleep on your side?” he repeated.

“Why on earth would you want to know that?” Maddie’s mouth dropped open when he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the handcuffs. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned, but he quickly cut her off.

“I’ve already thought about it,” he said with a frown. “After that stunt you pulled with Baker, I’m not taking any chances. And now that you know your sister isn’t going to cooperate, you have even a bigger reason to run. But I’m worn-out, and so are you. We’re both two mature adults, so let’s simply walk calmly into the bedroom and try to get a little sleep.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious.” And the expression on his face confirmed it. “Now, answer my question. Do you sleep on your back or do you sleep on your side?”

“I sleep on my side,” Maddie admitted, sending him an icy look.

“Right side or left?”

“Left,” she finally answered after a second to ponder.

“Good. I sleep on my left side, too,” he said. “This should be easy.”

He took a step in her direction, but Maddie moved farther away. It was the wrong thing to do. When she saw the muscles flex in his jaw, Maddie worried she may have pushed him a little too far.

“Are you purposely trying to be a pain in the ass? Or is this normal for you?” he asked with a grim expression. “I’ve gone out of my way to make you as comfortable as possible. I’ve seen that you have food. I’ve made sure you have clean clothes. And, against my better judgment, I even let you call your crazy sister. Now, I don’t know about you, but I think it’s your turn to do a little compromising. After all, I’m not the one who climbed that fence and set this whole fiasco in motion. You are.”

The flush of shame crept up her neck. “I don’t suppose you would take my word if I said I wouldn’t try to escape again?”

He threw his head back to laugh.

“And I guess it doesn’t matter that you’ve already taken away my boots?”

“It doesn’t matter in the least.”

“And you wouldn’t consider sleeping on the love seat, maybe? We could push it in front of the door. You’d be sure to wake up if I tried to climb over you.”

He looked over at the love seat and back at her. “I’m six foot two. How much rest do you think I could get on a four-foot love seat?”

“Well, you’re crazy if you think I’m taking off my clothes,” Maddie sputtered.

His grin was as wicked as his laugh had been nasty. “Suit yourself, but I’m taking off mine.”

“Fine. I’ll sleep on top of the covers.”

“It gets chilly out here in the desert at night,” he warned.

“Not that chilly.”

He shrugged, then motioned toward the bedroom. Reluctantly Maddie marched ahead of him like a prisoner on her way to the gallows. Dear God, what was she going to do now? He had rendered her senseless with the mere possibility that might kiss her. And now she was going to be handcuffed to him. In bed. With him naked.

Good Lord, Maddie thought, how am I ever going to survive the next three days? Stopping when she reached the side of the bed, Maddie turned around and faced him with both arms held out in front of her.

“Just the right arm, please,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

Maddie rolled her eyes, but did as he instructed. However, when the cold steel clamped around her wrist, Maddie wondered if Hawk realized once he handcuffed them together he couldn’t escape, either. The thought of him being her prisoner brought a faint smile to her lips.

“Now, let’s see.” He rubbed a hand over the shadow on his chin that only emphasized his maleness. “If we both sleep on our left sides, that means I need to cuff our right hands together. Correct?”

“Don’t ask me, I’m just the prisoner,” Maddie was quick to point out. “You’re the mastermind behind this catastrophe.”

He ignored her comment, then bent down long enough to take off his boots. Then he turned her around and stepped up behind her so close, Maddie could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. A tingle spread through her body so fast it almost made her swoon.

“Should it concern me that you just happen to have a pair of handcuffs in your possession?” Maddie quipped, trying to disguise her rapid breathing.

The chuckle was low in his throat. “I’m not into bondage, if that’s what you’re asking. Pleasure’s always been my game.”

Forcing her eyes shut at that comment, Maddie bit down on her lower lip, hard. She was trying with everything she had not to let her traitorous mind wander into the pleasure department. Not now. Not when she was only seconds away from crawling into bed with a naked man.

To her surprise, instead of shedding his fatigues, he clamped the cuff around his own right hand, leaned over and pulled back the covers and switched off the bedside light.

The room instantly became pitch-black.

“I thought you were getting undressed,” Maddie mocked when he didn’t go through with his threat.

He leaned closer, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to tempt you. You might take advantage of me.”

“By putting a pillow over your face until you pass out, you mean?”

He laughed, then found the small of her back with his free hand. “Be a good girl and climb in first. I’ll climb in right behind you.” Maddie didn’t move until he gave her a gentle push. “And then we’ll be just as snug as two bugs in a rug,” he added with another one of those husky chuckles that unnerved her. “Which is an appropriate way to be if you’re sleeping with a famous entomologist, I would think.”

“I wouldn’t give up my day job,” Maddie scoffed. “A comedian you aren’t.” She slid under the covers and scooted as far to the opposite side of the bed as humanly possible. It didn’t work. He scooted right in behind her. A piece of paper couldn’t have been wedged between them. Okay, you can do this, Maddie told herself. Like the man said, we’re both two mature adults. We’re both exhausted. And there’s no reason why we shouldn’t get a little sleep.

Not that Maddie intended to fall asleep. After all, she was handcuffed to a total stranger who had her sexual motor running faster than a turbo-charged Indy race car! But she would get some rest. Rest was important if she wanted to survive the next three days. Yes, she would just lie there in the darkness awake, still as a mouse, and pretend she was asleep. Maybe then he would stop all the snuggly-buggly crapola that was driving her out of her usually focused mind.

But God, he did feel good pressed up against her, she admitted with a mental moan. In fact, they were a perfect fit. She would never have pictured Hawk as a cuddler kind of guy. But lying there in the darkness in that intimate spooning position, suddenly made the whole point of cuddling crystal clear to Maddie. Until she felt an unmistakable bulge pressing against her backside.

“Okay, soldier. That better be a hand grenade in your pocket,” Maddie warned, hoping the nervousness she felt wasn’t evident in her voice.

The second he moved away, Maddie let out a deep sigh of relief. Or was it regret? Whatever! Maddie was simply too exhausted to sort it all out. Unable to suppress a yawn, she mumbled, “It’s going to be a long three days.”

“Hopefully, long enough,” he said with a yawn of his own.

Maddie didn’t dare ask, “Long enough for what?”

She had a feeling she already knew the answer.

5

THE SOUND OF THE BEDROOM door closing launched Maddie into a sitting position. Thankfully her iron bracelet and her bed-buddy were now both gone.

“God, what a night,” she groaned, glaring at Brad’s beside clock. It was only 6:00 a.m., but he had been up and on the move for at least an hour while she kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep. Amazingly she had managed to stay awake most of the night, long after the sound of Brad’s even breathing told her he was out for the count; a fact that upset her whether Maddie wanted to admit it or not.

Yes, her, she mused. Dr. Madeline Morgan, the woman who only had time for her career, had actually been a bit disappointed that the handsome hunk who had taken her prisoner hadn’t been a little more persistent about his boastful house-playing threat.

And what would you have done if he had tried to get a little frisky? her pesky libido wanted to know.

Refusing to even ponder that question in her sleep-deprived state, Maddie scrambled from the bed and made a mad dash for the bathroom. The reflection she saw in the mirror a few seconds later, however, sent her fist to her mouth to stifle a scream.

Her hair, which had never fully recovered from the helicopter wind storm, looked as if she had contemplated dreadlocks but left the task only halfway completed. An ugly purple bruise the size of a quarter had popped out above her right eyebrow. And worse yet, the skin now seemed to be missing on the very tip of her nose. Praying her bloodshot eyes were only distorting her image, Maddie leaned closer to the mirror, then reached up and tweaked the bright red spot. An instant stab of pain told her bloodshot or not, her eyes still had perfect 20/20 vision.

“If this isn’t a day for heavy makeup, I don’t know what would be,” Maddie grumbled aloud, then remembered all she had with her were the clothes on her back.

Wonderful, she thought, frowning at her horrid reflection. No wonder she had awakened to an empty bed. The way she looked, she suspected Mr. Air Force was probably in the other room now, still hyperventilating over the shock of waking up next to Medusa, snake hair and all! Of course, the minute she thought of Brad, Maddie hurried back to the door to click the lock safely into place. And it wasn’t until she turned back around that she noticed the items he had offered her the night before were now sitting in a neat little bundle on the closed toilet seat.

Atop the bundle was a note.

Maddie walked over and picked it up. Shower and get cleaned up. By the time you’re dressed, I should be back with breakfast. Baker is back at his guard post in case you get any bright ideas about trying to escape again.

“Cute, real cute,” Maddie said aloud.

Yeah, he was a real riot, that Hawk.

She tossed the note into the wastebasket beside the sink, shed her rumpled clothing and pulled back the shower curtain that was still damp from the shower Brad had taken earlier. Stepping under the hot spray, she winced slightly when the water found the tender places from the manhandling she had suffered the day before. Too bad her arms and legs weren’t the only things bruised. She hated to admit it, but her ego was a little bruised, too, from the manhandling that hadn’t taken place the night before. And that’s what had her so puzzled.

Maddie couldn’t explain it, but in less than twenty-four hours she felt as if her entire life had done a gigantic flip-flop. Even finding a Deva Skipper seemed unimportant at the moment, although that could easily be explained thanks to Mary Beth and the media. Now, just holding on to her job had to be her main priority.

But what about all of the fantasizing? The funny feeling she got in the pit of her stomach every time she looked at Hawk? Not to mention the sudden concern over her appearance, which had never mattered one way or another to Maddie before.

Those weren’t her normal concerns.

Which was why, Maddie decided, she had to pull herself together and she had to do it fast. Captain Brad Hawkins was a luxury she simply couldn’t afford. Not if she intended to remain in control of her emotions and in control of her life. So, she simply wouldn’t give in to any further fantasies. Nor would she allow herself to obsess over her ratty hair and whether or not she had a big red wound on the tip of her nose. What she would do was start acting like the woman she really was. A competent woman. A focused woman. A confident woman. A woman with a kick-ass attitude, who knew what she wanted out of life and what she had to do to get it.

“Will the real Maddie Morgan please step forward?” Maddie said aloud, and stepped from the shower a woman renewed.

Thirty minutes later, however, she certainly didn’t look like the real Maddie Morgan. Her standard military issue fatigue pants were so large around the waist they fit like hip-huggers, and the T-shirt was so small it strained across her ample bosom like something you would wear to a wet T-shirt contest. Not that it mattered whether the T-shirt was wet or not. Since she’d rinsed out her bra and her undies along with the rest of her clothes that were now hanging discreetly behind the shower curtain, there was nothing to encumber the two distinct protrusions winking back at Maddie as she stared at herself in the mirror.

So much for getting back to my old self, Maddie thought. If anything, she looked exactly like Mary Beth.

Maddie rubbed her hand over her exposed midriff, thinking that all she needed now was Mary Beth’s belly-button ring. Yet, knowing there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about the situation or her new clothes, Maddie stomped from the bathroom like the true survivor she was, in search of one thing and one thing only.

Breakfast.

AFTER MAKING A MORNING check on Operation Demob, Brad had made a stop by the mess hall himself, then quickly returned to relieve Baker of his morning guard duties. He had chosen things he thought Maddie might like: cream cheese, bagels and a variety of fruit. He’d also picked up two containers of orange juice and a couple of disposable cups of hot coffee. He’d even remembered to grab a few packets of artificial sweeter and some creamer, since he found women rarely liked their coffee black the way he did himself.

Baker’s confirmation that he’d heard the shower running earlier told Brad his prisoner was already awake. Had she been one of the usual women he found in his company, Brad would have probably wandered into the bathroom and maybe even into the shower with her. But Brad had to remind himself that Maddie wasn’t one of his dates. She was his prisoner. And the fact they’d already shared a bed didn’t change a thing.

Especially since the bed sharing had been totally platonic; a fact Brad was still struggling with, even though common sense told him he needed to maintain the same resolve over the next few days. And that was going to be the hard part. Just like last night. He’d been teasing her, trying to keep her off balance, until the proximity to her got out of control and he accidentally let her know what was really on his mind. But who could blame him? What red-blooded American male could snuggle up with Maddie Morgan and not get aroused?

Smiling to himself over the comment she’d made about the hand grenade, Brad knew she had spent most of the night awake, most likely worried that his male urges would eventually get the better of him. Even when his own internal alarm clock had awakened him at 5:00 a.m., he could tell she was only pretending to be asleep. When he’d switched on the bedside light, he’d seen those long eyelashes of hers flutter ever so slightly like the butterflies she was so passionate about.

He’d been tempted to rattle her chain a little, let her know he was on to her by cuddling up next to her again, until thoughts like those evoked a response that sent him straight to the bathroom for a long, cold shower. In fact, just thinking about her now was enough to make Brad wonder if he shouldn’t come up with a Plan B and back off on the sexual advances. Those damn advances left him teetering on the fence every time he got close to her.

And falling for Maddie Morgan wasn’t an option.

He was a lifer. A military career man. He had made a solemn vow there would never be any room in his life for a serious relationship. Maddie was no exception.

At least, those were Brad’s convictions until the bedroom door opened and she stepped into the room. Then all thought of the Air Force and his convictions evaporated faster than a jet engine vapor trail.

Sweet Maddie, hell! Brad thought. The way her T-shirt was clinging to every curve, all he could do was stare at the two delectable mounds that seemed to be begging for his immediate attention.

“Yes, I have boobs. Now, close your mouth and stop staring at them.”

Brad swallowed, hard. “Hey, you surprised me, that’s all,” he lied.

She didn’t answer. Instead she padded barefoot across the room in his direction and headed straight for the local paper lying on the table. Her eyes narrowed when she picked the paper up and read the bold headlines THE SEARCH FOR MADAM BUTTERFLY CONTINUES.

“Were you expecting your sister to change her mind and call off the search?”

“Not really.”

“Well, I was sure hoping she’d change her mind,” Brad admitted. “If she’d been willing to cooperate, we might have been able to put an end to this predicament.”

When she didn’t comment, Brad changed the subject by motioning to the table he already had set and waiting. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” she said and tossed the paper into the trash can before she seated herself at the table.

Okay, Brad thought as he seated himself opposite her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but she was acting differently this morning. Sure, she had never seemed nervous or too timid to take up for herself, but still, there was something different about her. She was acting more…well, more aloof. Yeah, that was it. Today she seemed detached. Distant.

Which might be a blessing in disguise, Brad decided when his eyes wandered back to the two perfect peaks responsible for the activity that was going on under the napkin he had just placed on his lap.

“I hate to keep harping on your sister,” he said, testing the water a little further, “but you’re certainly being more charitable about her behavior than I would be if I were in your shoes.”

The look she sent him was as unyielding as the material stretched across her chest. “You don’t know the first thing about my sister. Mary Beth has been through some hard times. She craves validation…attention.”

“Don’t we all? In one way or another?”

“Not like Mary Beth,” she argued. “How would you feel if your childhood sweetheart left you standing at the altar in front of your entire hometown?”

Brad tried to answer truthfully. “That’s a difficult question for me. Because standing at the altar is something I never intend to do.”

She blinked. “Nor do I. But you have to admit being left at the altar could certainly shake a person’s confidence.”

Brad was still hung up on her first sentence. What? She never wanted to get married? He didn’t know why that would bother him, but it did, so he asked, “You mean you honestly don’t see a husband and a family in your future?”