WEDNESDAY MORNING
23 MAY 2001
JAG HEADQUARTERS

Mac stared down at the stack of papers in front of her on her desk, trying to concentrate. She was taking the next two days off in preparation for her wedding and she wanted to get rid of the backlog of paperwork on her desk. It wouldn’t be fair to dump it all on someone else, no matter what the circumstances. It wasn’t everyone else’s fault that Mac found it harder and harder to focus on work the closer it got to her wedding day.

Most would have assumed that Mac’s occasional inability to concentrate on work stemmed from her wedding, that she was the typical giddy bride looking forward to her wedding day with an excitement that could not be contained. It frustrated Mac that nothing could be further from the truth. She wanted to be giddy. She wanted to be counting the hours and minutes left until she would become Mrs. Mic Brumby. She wanted to look forward to her wedding day with the anticipation born long ago in a little girl’s dreams of her fairytale wedding. But she couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried.

Unconsciously, she rubbed a finger over her lips and remembered how it had felt. It had just been a kiss, one of a multitude she had received in her life. And it hadn’t been the first time that he had kissed her. She had known what it felt like, his mouth moving tenderly over hers, had known how he tasted. So why did one stolen moment on a cool May night haunt her so much?

She didn’t even have to close her eyes to see clearly in her mind how it had started out as tender goodbye kiss and grown in intensity until she was positive the only thing holding her upright was his hand pressed against her back, holding her firmly against him. She had tried to back away. Oh, how she had tried. But she’d never expected him to finally let go, to express in his actions everything that she’d ever wanted from him but had given up on hoping for. That was why, when he had pulled her back to him, she hadn’t resisted. At least, that was what she tried to tell herself.

Mac closed her eyes for a moment, remembering. She could still feel the tingling sensation as his lips touched hers. Her back felt warm where his hand had pressed against it. If they hadn’t both been so aware of the house full of guests, and their significant others, just on the other side of the door. . . .She should put it out of her mind. She had to put it out of her mind. She knew that in her head. Her heart had just refused to listen.

At a time when she should be running as fast as she could in the opposite direction, she had oddly found herself closer to Harm than they had been since he had left JAG to return to active flight status. They spent more time together, laughed together, generally enjoyed each other’s company. And they touched. A hand on an arm. A pat on the shoulder. Fingers clasped together. Mac knew they were playing with fire. They both did. That was evident every time they looked into each other’s eyes. But Mac kept telling herself that what little contact they allowed themselves was better than none at all. And maybe if she told herself that enough times, she would find herself believing it.

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of a knock on her partially closed door. Her gaze met Harm’s and they stared at each other for a long moment, the hint of a smile playing on their lips. Finally, Mac broke the silence and asked, “What can I do for you?”

“I. . . .something’s come up,” he said, stepping in her office, resisting the urge to push the door closed behind him. But being with Mac behind closed doors was too great a temptation and she had made her choice. He had to accept that. “I needed to talk to you about it.”

“Take a seat,” she suggested, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. Harm looked at the chair for a moment, then shook his head.

“On second thought,” he said, “why don’t we take a break? We’ve both been buried under paperwork all day. It’s a nice day out today. Why don’t we take a walk?”

“I don’t know,” she hesitated, shaking her head. “I’ve got a lot to get done before I go on leave. . . .” Her voice trailed off as she noted to look in his eyes. Ever since that night, she had found herself paying more attention to his eyes, learning to read what he was thinking. Right now, what she was seeing was a look that she hadn’t seen in a couple of years. . . .since he had shown up at her apartment to tell her that he was returning to active flight status. She had the feeling deep in the pit of her stomach that whatever he was about to say, she didn’t really want to hear it. Taking a deep breath, she nodded agreement. “Let me get my cover.”

“Thank you,” he said. Mac’s hand froze on her desk drawer at his tone and she studied him for a long moment. She couldn’t explain it, but she sensed from him that this was of vital importance – to both of them.

Once they were outside the building, slowly walking the grounds, Harm found himself hesitating. Honestly, he was a bit relieved about his news, but he was concerned about Mac’s reaction. He wasn’t sure why. She was going to marry another man in three days. Wouldn’t it be more comfortable for her if he wasn’t there, a reminder of the turmoil in her heart? But Mac seemed to be concerned about his reactions to what was happening in her life. She had obviously been worried about his reaction when she’d told him a few weeks earlier that he wouldn’t be able to sit at the head table at the wedding reception. Even already knowing that he was going to be there, she had asked him specifically a few hours before the engagement party if she would see him there.

Harm thought that he had finally figured out the tangled feelings between them, but her concern made it even harder, a constant reminder of what he could never have. There were times when he wished that he had remained oblivious. Why had he finally opened up to her on the Admiral’s porch? Why couldn’t he have backed away, as he’d done on the ferry? Maybe then it would be easier to pretend that he was happy as the person he cared about most in the world made a life with another man.

He glanced at Mac and found her looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for him to reveal his news. It had been his idea to come out here. A part of him considered forgetting about the whole thing and just taking off for the Patrick Henry, letting the chips fall where they may. But then he remembered the hurt look on his face when she had found out he’d had his eyes fixed without telling her. He’d promised himself that he would never do that to her again. But once again, the rules of engagement had changed.

“So how was your presentation?” he asked, breaking the silence, deciding to go with small talk while he figured out how to break his news.

“It went fine,” she replied, recognizing the delaying tactic, but going along with it. She was trying to learn not to push him so hard. Hell, her pushing had been what had put them in this situation to begin with. First, she’d pushed too hard in Sydney and ended up in another man’s arms. Then, she’d pushed him at the engagement party, but instead of running away as he had in Sydney, he’d pushed back this time and look what it had gotten them. Three days before her wedding and she couldn’t convince herself to be the ecstatic bride.

“You do love your husband, don’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

Mac shook her head, trying to banish the thoughts which had been plaguing her since the party and which had found a focus as she had researched her presentation on the Somers mutiny of 1842. How had she managed to relate the court-martial of her ancestor to her ambivalence about Mic? She sighed. The Somers mutiny was hardly a safe topic for conversation. Then again, was there any such thing between them anymore?

“Mac?” Harm asked, watching her with concern. “Are you okay?”

“There’s just a lot going on,” she replied. It was the truth, as far as that went.

Harm came to a stop and turned to her. Mac glanced around them. They were at a far corner of the grounds surrounding JAG Headquarters, away from the usual traffic of people coming and going. That nagging voice inside Mac’s head suggested that this wasn’t a good idea, but she squashed it. Harm was her best friend. She owed it to him to listen to what he had to say.

“As I’m sure you’re aware,” he began, “I have to qualify every year to keep my flight status current. My year is up at the end of the month and I’ve done everything except for the carrier landing portion of my quals.” He watched as she thought about what he was saying, making the connections in her mind.

“You’re going to be deployed sometime in the next week to carrier,” she concluded.

“I report to the Patrick Henry tomorrow,” he told her, continuing quickly before she could protest. “I’m driving up to Norfolk tonight and I’ll take a helo from there in the morning. Just in case something happens and things take longer than planned, it’s better to go now, than wait until after the holiday Monday when there will only be three days left in the month. Anyway, as of next week, I’m acting chief of staff and need to be here at JAG.”

“I see,” she replied carefully, having the sinking feeling she knew where this was going. “And when will you be back?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied, shrugging. This was the part that he was dreading telling her. “The plan is sometime Saturday, but I’m not sure exactly when. Could even be Sunday.”

“Sunday,” she repeated, trying – and not entirely succeeding - to stifle her dismay. “My wedding’s on Saturday and there’s the rehearsal dinner on Friday.”

“I know,” he said softly. If he was aware of nothing else, it was that her wedding to another man was on Saturday. “I’m up against a deadline here. If I delay the orders until after the wedding, then I run the risk of running out of time to complete my quals. Sure, I can probably complete them in a couple of days, maybe three, but things can happen that can drag that out.”

“And if you don’t complete your quals, then your flight status is threatened,” she realized. She knew how much his flight status meant to him, even if he was no longer a part of an active duty squadron. “I understand, but. . . .”

“Mac,” he said, picking up her right hand and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry.”

“You said the plan is to come back on Saturday?” she asked, clinging to that thought.

“That’s the idea,” he replied, hoping that she wasn’t going where he thought she was about to with this. It would be easier if he couldn’t make it back. “I’d like to salvage something of the holiday weekend before my workload is doubled for the next couple of weeks.”

“I suppose you have plans with Renée,” she said, trying to bury the flicker of jealousy she felt. She was with Mic. She couldn’t expect him to spend his time pining for her, despite coming to terms with the feelings between them. It wasn’t fair. . . .to any of them.

“Not really,” he admitted. Renée had pushed, but even before he’d known about his orders for the Patrick Henry, he’d made the excuse that he wanted to get a jump start on some of the extra work that he would be stuck with. Of course, his desire to be alone had more to do with regrets over the direction of his life than a burning desire to work through the holiday weekend. He knew that he wasn’t going to be very good company this weekend and he wasn’t really in the mood to tolerate Renée’s attempts to distract him.

She stared at her hand in his, her gaze focused on his thumb idly tracing circles on her palm. “Harm, I need you. . . .” she began, realizing how that sounded. She quickly added, a bit flustered, “I want you to be there for me. With Uncle Matt in Leavenworth, Chloe’s going to be my only family there. I’ve got friends, but you mean. . . .more to me than just about anyone. That’s why I’d invited you to the rehearsal dinner even though you’re not in the wedding party. If nothing else, I need you to be at the wedding.”

“Why, Mac?” he questioned her. He still held her hand and she could feel the heat where his thumb gently rubbed her slowly spreading up her arm and through her. Her breath caught as she tried to think of a reply.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice hesitant. “I just know that I need you there. I need to know that you are there and are. . . .happy for me.”

“If this is what you want,” he reminded her, “then I’m happy for you.” Anyone who didn’t know him very well might not have caught the slight tremor in his voice, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Mac. But Mac, learning to look for the little clues to what he was thinking, noticed it, perhaps because it reflected the doubts in her own heart.

“Harm,” she said, her voice with a hint of pleading, “I know that I’m asking a lot, and I can’t explain why this is so important for me. Maybe it’s that I think this will provide some closure. But I do know that I need to know that you will be there for me.”

Harm tilted her head up with a finger, his gaze meeting hers and he allowed himself just a moment to become lost in the dark depths of her eyes. In that moment, he remembered why he would do anything for her. “I will,” he said softly. “I promise.”

Mac licked her suddenly dry lips. He would come home in time for the wedding. He wouldn’t let anything stand in his way. Harm always kept his promises.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.”

“I haven’t yet.”

Well, he’d never broken a promise to her yet. It would be another three years before he would be forced to break that one. Until then, she would hold onto the knowledge that Harm’s word was worth more than the most precious metal. “Thank you,” she whispered, unconsciously leaning forward slightly as she lost herself in the turmoil evident in his eyes. She knew this would hurt him, more than he would probably ever admit, even to her. But he would still come simply because she had asked him to. She didn’t deserve for him to be so kind and understanding. She closed her eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to form.

She felt his free hand brush her cheek, meant to be a gesture of comfort. But she could feel so much more in his touch. Opening her eyes, she found that they had somehow moved even closer together. It would be so easy. All she had to do would be to stretch up just a little bit and she could satisfy the hunger she’d been trying so hard to forget since the party.

That night, things had gotten away from her as a simple goodbye kiss had turned into so much more. This time, Mac was fully aware of what she was doing and what this meant as she closed the remaining distance between them and stood up on tip toe to press her lips against his.

She moaned against his open mouth when she felt his hand go to her back, welcoming the return of the heat she remembered from that night. Her hand slid up his arm and over his shoulder board to press against the back of his neck, her fingers moving over him in a soft massage. They were outside, where anyone might walk by, but neither had the strength or the will to put out the fire threatening to engulf them.

Harm started to pull away first, but he’d been haunted as much as she had been the last couple of weeks and he found that he couldn’t. He tugged at her lower lip, lightly running his tongue along the soft flesh, before losing himself again and deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping the welcoming depths of her mouth. She swayed slightly against him as she met him with equal fervor, her tongue wrestling with his, and he tightened his hold on her.

Mac was finally the one who broke away first, taking a step back as she felt something hard pressing against her stomach. This was spinning too far out of their control. Harm turned his back to her, his breathing ragged, trying to regain some small measure of control over himself. Mac reached out and let her fingers brush against his arm before dropping her hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” Harm replied just as softly, turning his head to glance back at her. “Never be sorry.”

Mac wasn’t sure she had the right to ask for more, but she did anyway. She couldn’t help herself, anymore than she could have stopped herself from falling into his arms again, even when they both knew they shouldn’t. “Stop by and see me before you go?” she requested.

Harm turned his head away again and nodded. “I will,” he vowed.

Mac took a deep breath and forced herself to walk away, back to the pile of work waiting for her on her desk. But the voice was back in her head, taunting her.

You do love your husband, don’t you? . . . . You do love your husband, don’t you?. . . . You do love your husband, don’t you?

“What does love have to do with anything?” she retorted aloud, drawing a curious glance from a passing petty officer, who snapped off a salute as soon as she caught sight of the silver oak clusters on Mac’s collar. Mac automatically returned the salute, but she couldn’t get the question out of her mind. She just wished that she could satisfy herself with the answer.

A FEW HOURS LATER

Oddly enough, Mac found herself better able to concentrate after her work after her meeting with Harm. With a smile on her face, she signed off on another report and tossed it on top of the rapidly growing pile of completed work.

“Thinking about our wedding, I hope,” Mic said from the door. Mac looked up from the file she had just picked up, forcing the smile to remain on her face.

“Mic,” she said brightly. If her voice a little too bright, she was the only one who realized it. Mic rarely noticed the subtle clues – the look in her eyes, the slight change in her voice – that signaled a change in mood. Even when she was visibly upset at him, he tended more often than not to ignore the reason behind the mood, opting to try to charm her out of her bad mood rather than dealing with what had caused it in the first place. But it never resolved any of the problems between them. More and more, Mac was beginning to realize that. But it wasn’t that simple. Not after all this time.

Harm would have noticed, the voice in her head reminded her. Mac shook her head and forced her attention back to her fiancé. “What can I do for you, Mic?” she asked as she opened the folder in front of her.

“Just wanted to see if you wanted to take off a bit early and spend some time with me, luv,” he said cheerfully.

“Mic,” she protested, managing for the most part to keep the frustration out of her voice, “I have a lot of work to finish. Today’s my last day before the wedding and I want to get as much of this done as possible.”

“Rabb’s filling in as chief of staff while you’re gone, right?” he countered. “I’m sure he would understand if you left it for him, with the wedding to think about and all that.”

Mac managed to bite back a stinging retort. Everything was going to be hard enough for Harm as it was in the coming days and weeks. She wasn’t about to make things worse by unnecessarily dumping her work in his lap so she could play hooky with her persistent fiancé, even if Harm was going to be around to handle the extra load. Which he wasn’t, she reminded herself.

Harm chose that moment to poke his head in Mac’s office. “Sorry, am I interrupting anything?” he asked automatically, although sorry was about as far away from what he felt as one could get. But he would make nice even if it killed him. He wasn’t about to lose Mac’s friendship, no matter to whom she was married. And if Mic had a problem with his and Mac’s friendship, Harm was determined that was going to be Mic’s problem – not his and certainly not Mac’s if he could help it. Mac had promised that she wasn’t going to lose him and Harm was holding onto that with everything in him.

Mic opened his mouth to speak, to give Harm the brush off, but Mac jumped in before he could start anything. “Of course not,” Mac replied smoothly. “Are you taking off already?”

“The Admiral gave me the time to go home and pack since I’m driving to Norfolk,” Harm replied, focusing his attention on her. Unfortunately, Mic did notice that – he tried to notice everything when he saw Harm and Mac together – and decided to interrupt.

“Heading off on a case, mate?” Mic asked, his voice too pleasant. Maybe it would keep Harm away long enough to miss the wedding. Mic could have cared less if Harm was there to wish them well, even if it meant forgoing the opportunity to show off his hard-won bride. Although he had professed to Renée that he wasn’t concerned, he wouldn’t rest easy on that score until the wedding ring was firmly on Mac’s finger and she was truly and forever his. He couldn’t banish the occasional vision he had of Harm standing up in the middle of the ceremony and declaring his undying love for Mac. In this case, when it came down to a choice between showing off his wife to Harm and resting easy because Harm was absent, he’d take the resting easy. He’d have the rest of their lives to show off his wife and to remind Harm that Mac was forever his.

“My annual carrier quals,” he replied, his voice just as pleasant. “I’m taking a helo to the Patrick Henry in the morning from there.”

“I asked Harm to stop by before he left,” Mac added. “I just wanted to make sure that there is nothing pending that I need to look at this afternoon.” Her eyes were on Harm as she said it and he nodded slightly, acknowledging the silent plea to back her up.

“I managed to clear my desk,” Harm said, bolstering her story. Like her, he had returned to his office with a renewed determination to bury himself in work. He’d even managed to make a dent in the usual backlog of reports on his desk, reports he’d thought to put off until Mac was gone on her honeymoon, figuring that he’d need the extra distraction in the ongoing effort to forget.

“Have a safe trip and good luck on your quals,” she said, smiling at him. She focused completely on Harm and managed to forget for just a moment that they weren’t alone in the room. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

Managed to forget until Mic reminded her. “You’ll be back in time for the wedding?” he asked, his displeasure thinly veiled. Mac closed her eyes briefly against the sudden headache threatening to overwhelm her.

“I’ll be back Saturday morning,” Harm confirmed, taking a small amount of pleasure in bursting Mic’s hope that he wouldn’t be at the wedding. “I promised Mac that I’d be there. Well, I need to get going. Mac, I’ll see you Saturday.”

Mac got up and walked around to the door, stepping out of the office with Harm without even a glance in Mic’s direction. “I’ll see you,” she said, stepping close enough to him that she was able to brush her hand again his without it being glaringly obvious to everyone in the bullpen. “And thank you again.”

Harm lowered his voice so that only she would hear. “I’d do anything for you, Mac,” he reminded her. He then smiled and said aloud, “Tell Chloe I said ‘hi’ when she arrives and I’ll see you both at the wedding.”

“I will,” Mac promised, walking with him towards the elevator. She had all but forgotten Mic’s presence in her office. “I know she’s looking forward to seeing you.”

“Mac. . . .” Harm began, but he stopped, shaking his head. He stopped in front of the elevator doors and turned to face her. “I just want you to call me if you need anything, even if it’s just someone to talk to. I’m sure the next few days are going to be a bit crazy.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “For everything. Goodbye, Harm.”

“Goodbye, Mac,” he replied just as softly, lifting his hand to brush against hers as the elevator doors opened before them. There was no one stepping off the elevator, no one else waiting to get on, so Harm let his hand linger over hers just a little longer than was really necessary before dropping it back to his side.

Mac stood there until Harm stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed between them. With a sad sigh, she returned to her office, where Mic was still waiting for her. She hesitated, then closed the door behind her, just in case.

He had not been happy that she’d walked out of the office with Harm, barely giving him a second thought. By the time she’d returned, he was close to fuming. “Rabb get off okay?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm evident in his tone.

“Mic, I really do have a lot of work to get done before my leave,” she protested, hoping he would drop the subject and just leave her in peace. “Do you think we can talk later?”

Mic wasn’t about to let the subject of Harm slide. “Why did he promise to be back in time for the wedding?” he mused.

“He wasn’t sure if he would be able to get back,” she replied calmly, promising herself that she wasn’t going to argue about this, no matter how much Mic pushed. “I asked him to promise that he would be here for the wedding.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Mac countered with a sigh. Calm, she reminded herself. My uncle’s in Leavenworth, Chloe’s the only family I’ve got. The next closest thing I have to family are my friends at JAG. Harm’s been there for me through a lot and it’s natural that I would want him at my wedding.”

“I’m your family now,” Mic stressed. He thought by allowing them to say their goodbyes at the party that Harm would be firmly in her past and she would focus completely on him. If anything, she had been increasingly distant since the party. He just had to remind her that he was the one whom loved her and whom she would be marrying in three days.

“Mic, my friends are very important to me and I want them to be at my wedding,” she retorted. “*All* of them and that is non-negotiable. Besides, I thought you and Renée were friends and I hear that she’s really looking forward to the wedding.” Harm hadn’t said so in so many words, but Mac suspected that Renée’s desire to be at the wedding had more to do with making sure her perceived competition was out of the way than wishing Mac and Mic the best. Maybe she and Mic should get together, she thought. Renée and Mic certainly had a lot in common, including a distrust of the relationship between their significant others. Of course, that distrust come without knowing what had transpired within the last few weeks. If they knew that. . . .Mac shook her head, trying to banish the thoughts from her mind, wondering where that wild idea had come from.

At Mic’s questioning glance, she managed a smile. “Just thinking about the wedding,” she told him, trying to sound like the joyous bride-to-be. It was the truth, in a way, and it certainly did the job in distracting Mic, she told herself, judging from the wide smile now on his face. “Now, I really do need to get back to work. I’ve got to get finished with all this and then Chloe and her father are arriving late this afternoon.”

“Fine,” Mic said, seemingly satisfied that he had managed to divert her thoughts from Harm to their wedding. As she opened the door, Mic came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling her neck. Momentarily startled, Mac reminded herself to relax as she extricated herself from his arms.

“We’re in the office, remember?” she pointed out quietly. She took his hand and squeezed, hoping that he was reassured that she wasn’t rejecting him.

“Sorry, luv,” Mic apologized. “I suppose I can wait until later and, of course, I’ll have you to myself for two weeks on our honeymoon.”

“Mic,” she said with a sigh, shaking her head. It made her a little uncomfortable when he was overly affectionate in public, but he didn’t notice, mistaking her discomfort for anticipation of when they would be alone together.

“Later, luv,” Mic said, stepping out of her office. Mac was about to go back to her desk when he added, “Walk me to the elevator?” He managed to make it sound like a pleasant request, but inside Mic was bothered. She had walked Rabb to the elevator without a second thought, but he had to remind her to extend the same courtesy to him. Too bad she wouldn’t take off the rest of the day with him. Then he could work on that reminder of his place in her life.

Mac stopped and nodded, managing another smile as she gestured him to go ahead of her. As Mac walked slightly behind him, she ran her fingers along the collar of her uniform where his lips had moved over her, wishing that she felt the same tingling sensation still present on her lips from Harm’s kiss earlier.

HARM’S APARTMENT

Harm packed automatically – blindly tossing items in his overnight bag. He’s been on so many trips that he knew what he needed to pack without even thinking about it. Sometimes he wondered why he didn’t just keep a bag packed and ready to go at all times. You would have thought that he would have learned that, if nothing else, after sixteen years as a Naval officer and four years at Annapolis.

“Do you have anything to pick up?”

“I’m a Marine, Harm. First to go. We always keep a packed bag in the car.”

“I guess that’s the difference between sailors and Marines. I keep golf clubs in my car.”

He shook his head, trying to banish the memory. Memories. They had become the bane of his existence the last few weeks, ever since that damned engagement party. It was like a floodgate had been opened – everywhere he turned, he was haunted by her face, by the way things used to be between them, by what would now never be. In three days, she would become Mrs. Mic Brumby and apparently nothing was going to stop that now. Not even what had happened between them that night - what was continuing to happen between them - was apparently enough to cause Mac to turn her back on the arrogant Australian.

He should have run in the other direction after that kiss on the Admiral’s porch. By her words as they’d broke apart, it seemed that she had clearly meant it as some sort of goodbye, a farewell to what might have been. She’d even tried to pull away at first, before he’d pulled her back and they’d both lost themselves for an all-too-brief moment in the hint of what could have been. But as they’d stood side by side as Harriet’s promotion was announced, their hands brushing, he’d realized that there was no way he could run from this, not anymore.

As he’d told her, the thing he wanted most was to never lose her, even if the only way he could have her now was only as a friend. And as he’d walked into JAG that Monday morning after the party, that was precisely what he had feared would happen. He had been afraid that she would be the one to run – away from him and from the feelings swirling between them which had finally surfaced. He had nearly frozen in place as he’d gone to the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, finding her already in the kitchen, emptying a packet of sugar into her mug. He’d watched her for a moment, debating whether to go in there and face head on whatever might happen or turn and head for his office until the coast was clear and he was safe from everything that he was afraid of.

The decision ended up being taken out of his hands when she had turned around, coffee in hand, and had seen him standing in the doorway. Then the most amazing thing had happened. She’d smiled at him and said ‘Good morning’, just like it was any another morning. Smiling and greeting her in return, he’d entered the kitchen and set about preparing his own beverage. As he’d turned back to his mug after replacing the carafe in the coffee maker, his arm had accidentally brushed against hers. He didn’t remember her being that close to him when he’d poured his coffee. Had she been closer than he’d thought she was? Or had she moved closer to him, driven by the same need to be near him which he was trying to quash in himself?

From there, the ice had been broken. Whenever they ended up together, they seemed to always end up touching. Maybe it was just his hand on her arm, wanting to point something out to her. Or her arm brushing against his, lingering just a little bit longer than necessary as she handed him a piece of paper in the weekly staff meeting. Or a congratulatory pat on the shoulder after a hard-fought win in court. But for the diamond glaring brightly from her left hand, soon to be joined by a band of gold, it was as if time had finally been turned back – before his return to flying, before Sydney, before Mic, before Renée, before all the other little things that had conspired to tear them apart.

But their kiss in the courtyard today – that had come out of nowhere. Or maybe it had been inevitable, the only logical result of their renewed closeness, both physical and emotional. Harm couldn’t decide which it was. Maybe they should have run from each other. If it could happen once – as it had on the Admiral’s porch – then surely it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that it could happen again. But they couldn’t have predicted how that simple kiss could spin so quickly out of control, could they? How were they to know that it would only be the uniforms they wore and the fact that they were in a public setting that would serve to prevent them from giving themselves up to the desire and need which was flaring up between them.

It went against everything he believed in, the honor which had been instilled in him as an officer and a gentleman. But there were some things that even the most stringent military discipline couldn’t control or contain and, God help them both, this appeared to be one of them. Sometimes he wished that what she had once accused him of had been true, that he looked at her and saw Diane. Then it would be easier to convince himself that he shouldn’t want her, shouldn’t desire her, that his emotions only stemmed from her resemblance to his lost love and that it wasn’t enough to risk everything over and not fair to any of them.

“Hey, Sailor,” Renée said, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Harm tensed slightly, having not even heard her come in. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early. I thought I’d be here waiting for you. . . .” Harm stepped to the side, out of her arms, and Renée got a good look at the open travel bag on his bed. “Where are you going?”

“Remember, I told you my carrier quals were coming up,” he reminded her. “I just got my orders this morning. I report to the Patrick Henry tomorrow morning. I’m catching a helo out of Norfolk.”

“Well, can’t you delay?” she asked, a slight pout on her face, waving her hand as if dismissing his orders. “I mean, Mac’s wedding is Saturday.” Truth be told, Renée was desperate for the two of them to attend the wedding. She wanted Harm to watch as Mac pledged her life and love to another man and hoped that the finality of that action would finally push Harm where she wanted him to go – completely and absolutely hers. Once Mac was forever out of his reach, then surely it would be easier to convince him to give her the miracle she wanted.

Harm sighed inwardly. He knew why she had brought the wedding up. She’d certainly been dropping enough hints over the last few months. Hell, she’d even admitted that she was counting the days until the wedding, right after she’d pressed him about his feelings for Mac and he’d sidestepped the issue. But he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. Maybe it was harsh, considering that he’d been involved with her for a year and a half, but his heart was firmly in the grasp of one Sarah Mackenzie and after the party, he could not run from that any more. “Renée, I’ll be back in time for the wedding,” he said with a patience that he didn’t really feel. “I spoke to Mac earlier and she pointed out the same thing and I promised to be back in time.”

“Oh,” Renée said, managing to mask her irritation. The woman was getting married in three days, but she was the one who managed to extract a promise from Harm to return in time for the wedding. Renée had the feeling deep down that if she had asked him to return to escort her to the wedding, he would have come up with at least a dozen reasons why he wouldn’t make it back in time. Time to change the topic and remind him that *she* was the one in his life. “So what do you want to do this afternoon? I managed to clear my schedule so that I could surprise you when you got off work but it’s still a little early for the dinner reservations that I made for us, so I’m flexible.” She wrapped her arms around him again and let her hands roam freely, giving him a very good idea of what she wanted to do.

Harm extricated himself from her embrace, momentarily haunted by another woman, another embrace – one that he hadn’t wanted to let go of. He could almost see the electricity sparking when Mac touched him. With Renée, although it felt pleasant enough, he didn’t have the sense that he’d starve if he never felt her touch again. He zipped up his bag and carried it over to the door. “Renée, I’m leaving on a helo first thing in the morning from a base three hours away,” he pointed out. He dropped the bag on the floor under the coat rack and turned to face her, not really surprised that the pout was still present on her face. It was an emotion that she was very good at and liked to trot out every time his job took him away from her. “I’m driving down to Norfolk tonight. In fact, I was planning to leave as soon as I called you to let you know what was going on.”

Of course, he just had to tell Mac that he was leaving before he told her. Just three more days, she reminded herself. In seventy-two hours, Sarah Mackenzie would be Sarah Brumby and out of their lives – and out of their relationship – forever. “Do you have to?” she pouted, then snapped her fingers and smiled as an idea came to her. It would require some more rearranging of her schedule, but this was too important. “Why don’t I give Claude a call and push back tomorrow’s schedule for a few hours? Then I can accompany you to Norfolk and give you a proper goodbye before you go.”

“No, Renée,” he said, picking up a stack of mail off the bookcase and idly flipping through it, not that he hadn’t already done so when he’d gotten home. He just wasn’t in the mood for Renée’s pleading. “Quals are very stressful. If I don’t do well, then I can lose my flight status. I’m driving up to Norfolk tonight so I can get a good night’s sleep and be well rested for my quals, which would be the last thing that would happen if you came with me.”

“Harm, she’s getting married in three days,” Renée pointed out, fingering the string of pearls around her neck. Wonderful. How was she supposed to make him forget if he kept pushing her away? Well, she wasn’t a woman who would tolerate being pushed away.

He turned around and stared at her as if she’d suddenly grown two heads, dropping the stack of mail back on the bookcase. “Since when were we talking about Mac?” he demanded. “I was talking about my carrier-landing quals.” Right, and you’re in such a foul mood because you’re worried about catching the two wire, he chided himself.

“Since she’s always between us,” Renée countered, “even when she’s not here. Tell me, if she hadn’t asked you to make a point of it, would you even care if you made it back in time for her wedding?”

“Of course,” he said, using the same line he’d often used on himself in the last few months as he’d watched her make wedding plans with Brumby. Not that he thought it would convince Renée any more than he had managed to convince himself with it. “Mac has been a close friend for nearly five years.”

“And more?” she mused. She’d often wondered, but both she and Mic had tried to convince themselves that it didn’t matter. All that should have mattered was that he had Mac and she had Harm. But the more distant he became as the wedding drew closer, the more she needed to know.

“I am not going there with you,” he said firmly, barely able to keep the anger out of his voice, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. She noted that, as before, he hadn’t really denied her assertion. “As you said, Mac is getting married in three days. And that’s the end of it.”

Studying him with his determined expression and hand on the door knob, Renée reluctantly convinced herself to let it drop for now. At least he would be in Norfolk, then on a carrier in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and Mac would be here in Washington, distracted by all those pesky last-minute wedding details. She pressed against his side, intending to give him a deep, passionate goodbye kiss, but he turned to open the door and she only managed to press her lips against the corner of his mouth. “You’ll call me when you get back,” she said hopefully. “Or if you are running behind, you could get ready for the wedding then come by to pick me up.” She couldn’t help throwing in one more reminder of the door that was about to close to him.

He nodded as they stepped out of the apartment and he closed the door behind him, locking it. “I’ll call,” he agreed, trying not to think about escorting her to the wedding that was threatening to rip his heart to shreds.

“Good,” she said, turning her to him as they stood in the hall and this time managing to catch him off-guard enough to give him a kiss, even if it wasn’t quite the kind of kiss she’d wanted to give. “Just remember that I’m waiting for you.”

As he climbed into his car, Harm tossed his bag on the seat beside him with a sigh. Renée was his girlfriend, but when she had just kissed him, he hadn’t felt anything. He had been automatic, rote in his response. He couldn’t make himself feel anything. Truth be told, he’d been that way ever since the party, when he’d held in his arms the one woman whose kisses would always haunt him.

Mac was distracted as she walked across the street to her building. What was happening? She had spent the better part of a year trying to convince herself that she was in love with one Mic Brumby, but all that had fallen apart with one simple kiss. Now, as she was about to marry one man, she craved the touch and kisses of another as much as she craved the air that she breathed.

“Hey, Mac!” a voice called out from in front of her. Mac looked up from where she was studying the cracks in the sidewalk in front of her to see her sister running towards her. She held her arms out and gathered Chloe into her embrace.

“It’s so good to see you,” she said. Oddly, for the first time in a long time, Mac felt relaxed. She took a step back and studied Chloe. “You’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”

“Well, I’m grown up now,” Chloe proclaimed, watching Mac. She was worried about her, had been ever since Mac had told her at Christmas that she had agreed to marry Mic. Now that she could see Mac in person, she was even more concerned. Three days before her wedding and the last image that Mac projected was that of a happy bride-to-be.

Mac laughed. At least some things were constant. Chloe was still Chloe. “You just turned fourteen a few days ago,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, fourteen going on forty,” another voice interjected. Chloe sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Dad!”

“Hello again, Kyle,” Mac said warmly, holding out her hand to him. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well,” he replied as he shook her hand. “Congratulations on your wedding.”

Chloe noticed the brief cloud that passed over Mac’s face at the mention of the wedding, but then it was gone and Mac was smiling again. “Thank you,” she replied.

“Look, we need to go get checked into our hotel,” Kyle said. “But Chloe insisted we had to stop by and let you know that we made it here.”

“I asked Dad if I could stay with you while he goes get us checked in,” Chloe interrupted excitedly. “Since we haven’t seen each other in a while, I thought we could take some time to get caught up, just us women.”

“If it’s okay with you, of course,” Kyle said, trying to be the voice of reason.

Mac’s looked at her sister and her heart melted. She could use the company – and maybe Chloe could help distract her from the turmoil haunting her night and day. “It’s fine, Kyle,” Mac assured him. “I’d love to have Chloe to myself for a few hours.”

“Great!” Chloe exclaimed. “See you later, Dad!”

Kyle laughed as he kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Well, I guess she’s all yours then, Mac,” he acquiesced. “Just give me a call if she gets to be too much. Otherwise, I’ll pick her up in a few hours for dinner.” He winked, causing Mac to laugh and Chloe to roll her eyes again.

“Bye, Kyle,” Mac said. “We’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Dad,” Chloe echoed. They both watched as Kyle walked down the street back to where he had parked their rental car. Once he had driven off, Mac put her arm over Chloe’s shoulder and lead her into her building.

“You don’t know how glad I am to see you,” Mac said.

“So how’s Harm?” Chloe asked, managing to sound completely innocent. Bingo, she thought as she noted the pained look in Mac’s eyes at the mention of his name.

It took Mac a moment to shake the memory of their walk from her mind and to attempt a convincing answer. “Harm’s fine,” she replied, glancing down at her engagement ring. She shook her head. “He’s leaving tonight for Norfolk. He has to complete his annual carrier-landing qualifications by the end of the month.”

“You mean he’s not going to be here for the wedding?” Chloe asked, raising her voice as Mac unlocked her apartment door. A passing neighbor looked at them oddly and Mac ushered Chloe into the apartment, firmly closing the door behind them. “I can’t believe this.” Chloe was upset. She’d held onto her dreams of someday being the flower girl at Harm and Mac’s wedding. Mac’s upcoming wedding to Mic was just a minor stumbling block to that. She’d had romantic visions of Harm sweeping in and declaring his undying love for Mac, carrying her away from what would be the biggest mistake of her life. How could he do that if he wasn’t even going to be there?

“Chloe, Harm’s going to be at the wedding,” Mac assured her, puzzled by Chloe’s reaction. Sure, Chloe was very fond of Harm, but you’d think Harm was the one she was marrying from the way she was acting. “I spoke to him earlier. He promised to be back in time for the wedding.”

Chloe couldn’t help her sigh of relief. “Good,” she said, relieved. “Then it’s not too late.”

“Too late for what?” Mac asked, although she had a feeling that she already knew the answer to that question. She really shouldn’t be surprised that Chloe was managing to give voice the doubts in her own heart. Chloe had always been one to speak her mind and had always been expressing hope that Harm and Mac would eventually get together. She needed to nip this in the bud. She had enough on her mind without her sister adding to the turmoil. Chloe was supposed to help make her feel better, not doubt herself even more. “Chloe, I. . . .”

“Why are you marrying him?” Chloe asked, abruptly changing the subject from Harm to Mac’s intended husband.

“What?” Mac turned around and stared at her sister incredulously, startled by the sudden redirection of their conversation.

“Why are you marrying Mic Brumby?” Chloe clarified. “What is it about him that is making you choose to spend the rest of your life with this man?”

“Well,” Mac began slowly, trying to gather her thoughts, “he’s a good man. He makes me laugh. He gave up a lot to be with me here – his career in the Navy, his home in Australia. And most importantly, he’s offering me the life I’ve always wanted – a home, a family eventually.”

Chloe wanted to strangle her sister. How could such an intelligent woman be so completely dense when it came to her personal life? She sighed heavily. Sometimes she felt like she was the older one. “What about love?” she pressed.

“What does love have to do with anything?”

Yeah, what does it have to do with anything, she asked herself. She’d been in love – and her affections had been thrown back in her face with talk of not being able to let go and waiting, possibly for eternity. When Mac didn’t answer immediately, Chloe repeated the question. Mac shook her head, trying to clear it. “Chloe, it’s a lot more complicated than that,” she tried to explain, but Chloe waved her off.

“The only complication I see here is that you love Harm,” Chloe countered, “he loves you and – for some God-unknown reason that I have been trying to figure out ever since you first told me you had agreed to wear Mic’s ring – you’re about to throw your life away on marriage to a man whom you definitely do not love.”

“I never said that,” Mac protested, but it sounded weak, even to her own ears.

“And you never said that you do love him either,” Chloe pointed out. “Come on, Mac. It’s not that hard, if you really do love him. It’s just three little words. Say them.”

“I. . . .” Mac began, the rest of the words sticking in her throat. Chloe wanted to jump up and down in triumph, but stopped at the look of utter despair on Mac’s face.

Chloe walked across the room to Mac and clasped her hands. “Mac,” she said, her tone very serious and grown-up, “you’re my sister and I love you. So please listen to me when I say that I’m worried about you. I’m scared that you’re about to make a huge mistake. You love one man, but you’re about to marry another. You’re settling for some reason that I don’t think even you understand. Please, think about this some more before you end up ruining three lives.”

“Chloe, I’ve made my decision,” Mac said, sounding uncertain, as if trying to convince herself as much as Chloe. “Harm has agreed to live with it. So should you. Please, I want you to be happy for me.”

“Did it ever occur to you that Harm’s accepting your decision only because you’re not giving him a choice,” Chloe asked sadly, “that he loves you enough to let you walk away because that is what *you* are making him believe that you want? He’s falling on his sword because he loves you enough to let you go if that is what make you happy.”

“You’ve made a choice to get married and I respect that.”

“Harm’s not falling on his sword,” Mac protested, even as she began to seriously consider the possibility in her own mind. How many times had he told her that he was happy for her if she was happy? Sure, they touched more now than they had in the last couple of years – touched the way they used to before. . . .things. . . .had conspired to nearly tear their friendship apart. That didn’t mean that Harm was in love with her. But their kisses – the way he had pulled her back to him during both kisses, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. Those were hardly the actions of a man who was happy that she was marrying someone else.

“Have you ever asked him?” Chloe asked. “Or is he just telling you what you think you want to hear because you haven’t asked?”

“Chloe. . . .” Mac began, pulling her hands away and turning to look out the window. It was a beautiful day, the sun shining blindingly bright. Too bad it couldn’t shed the light of truth on this situation. Or maybe she was so far gone that she was blinded to the truth. She didn’t know anymore.

“Mac, talk to him,” Chloe pleaded, placing her hand on Mac’s arm. “Go see him before he heads to Norfolk. You owe it to yourself, to him – even to Mic Brumby – to figure this out before you get to the ‘until death us do part’.”

When Mac remained silently staring out the window, Chloe shook her head sadly, an action Mac saw reflected in the window, but didn’t acknowledge. She knew how Chloe felt about Harm – she’d never made any secret of her hopes for Harm and Mac. But she barely knew Mic. How could she know or not know what was between the two of them?

“Mac, I’m going to call my dad on his cell phone and ask him to come pick me up,” Chloe said. “Please, think about what I said and please, go talk to Harm. You should be sure before you get married and from what I’ve heard here, you are far from it.”

“It helps if you’re sure.”

Mac stood unmoving by the window as Chloe walked across the room and made her phone call. Maybe she should have stayed as far away from Harm as possible during that damned party, instead of pushing him until he finally opened up. Then they would never have kissed and then they wouldn’t have spent the last two weeks touching and then they wouldn’t have kissed today in the courtyard. Then maybe Mac wouldn’t have all these doubts.

But as she touched her lips with her fingertips, remembering how they had tingled from Harm’s kisses, she knew at least one thing. She couldn’t have not kissed Harm, anymore than she could deny her own name.

After Chloe had left, giving her father the excuse that Mac was exhausted from all the wedding preparations and that they would spend time together tomorrow, Mac had paced her living room until she was surprised she hadn’t worn a hole in the carpet. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and, grabbing her keys and her purse, left her apartment and took off in her Corvette, figuring a drive would clear her head.

“Permission to come aboard.”

“Permission granted.”

Mac pounded her fist on the steering wheel. He’d captured her attention from the beginning, looking so confident and cocky and sure with his gold wings and brand-new medal pinned on by the President of the United States. She had admitted it to herself when he’d gone out of his way – after she’d all but betrayed him – to come to the rescue of her and her uncle, both literally and figuratively. But she hid behind a façade of Marine discipline and the walls she’d built around herself to prevent people from getting too close, to prevent anyone else from hurting her the way her parents had hurt her.

“I know. You were kissing her.”

That had been easier than admitting the truth – that she had wanted Harmon Rabb more than she’d wanted any man in her life. But he was hurting from the memory of his lost love and it was simpler to brush their kiss off as an aberration, telling herself that he only saw her as a doppelganger of his dead love. It was better than risking her feelings being shot down.

“Damn you. Why am I the only one crying?”

That had probably been the moment, more than any other since they’d known each other, when she’d wanted him more than she’d wanted her next breath. She would have done anything if only he’d swept her into his arms and carried her off, promising that when he would come home, he would come home to her.

“Is that how long we’re going to wait?”

She should have stuck to her guns, kept telling herself that Harm only saw her as the living apparition of his dead love. Then maybe she wouldn’t have thrown herself at him and ended up going down in flames, leading her to accept a ring from another man – a man she hadn’t even dated – just a few nights later.

A 19^th-century Naval Commander, with Mic’s face, walked down the row of mutineers about to be hung at his command. He looked each man in the eye as he pulled the black hood of death over their faces. Finally, his eyes locked with the third and final man – a man with Harm’s face.

With a sharp jerk of the steering wheel, Mac pulled off the road, gravel spraying as she came to a stop with the screech of tires on the unpaved shoulder. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as her whole body shook with the sobs she forced back, refusing to give into the tears forming. A snippet of her conversation with Harm at the party echoed in her head.

“What do you want most?”

“What I want most, Mac, is. . . .is to never lose you.”

“I promise you - no matter what happens - you won’t lose me.”

Was that what the dream meant? That if she married Brumby, she’d lose Harm – their friendship ending up dead and buried, along with anything else which might have been? “No,” she cried out. “That can’t happen.” She released the steering wheel and pressed her hands to her head, fighting against the headache threatening to overwhelm her. Her head jerked up when she heard a knock on her car window.

Taking a shaky breath, she rolled down the window, finding herself looking into the eyes of a Virginia State Trooper. “Ma’am, are you alright?” he asked, studying her intently. Probably looking for signs that I’m driving drunk, she realized. Figuring that he would ask, she slowly reached for her license in her purse and registration in the glove compartment, holding them up for the officer to see.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taking another deep breath. “I just got a little dizzy and thought it best to pull off the road. I didn’t want to get into an accident.”

The officer smiled at her and Mac forced herself to relax, managing a smile in response. “There’s an exit just ahead with a gas station and restaurant,” he suggested. “Maybe you can stop there for a while, get some aspirin, clear your head before you continue on to wherever you’re going.”

“That’s probably not a bad idea,” she agreed. Suddenly, she frowned. Calculating the time in her head and glancing at the rapidly setting sun, she realized that she had to have been on the road for a while, blindly driving wherever the car would take her. Hoping the trooper wouldn’t think she was completely out of it, she asked, “Where am I exactly? I’m afraid I’m not all that familiar with this part of the state.”

“You’re just north of Richmond,” he replied, not looking at her too strangely, for which Mac was thankful. “The 295 interchange is a few miles ahead. Where are you headed?”

“Norfolk,” she answered automatically, then stopped. Where on earth had that come from? She wasn’t headed for Norfolk. Yeah, right, the voice inside her head countered, that’s why you’re already halfway there without even realizing where you were going. “I’m going to see my. . . .a friend. He’s deploying in the morning to an aircraft carrier.”

“Well, depending on traffic you’ve probably got another hour and a half – maybe two – before you get there,” he pointed out. “It’s probably not a bad idea to take that break, depending on how far you’ve come already.”

“Washington,” she stated. “I’m driving from DC. And thank you for the suggestion. I think I will take that break at the next exit.” Yeah, I need to figure out just what the hell I’m doing, she thought.

Satisfied that Mac was okay and not drunk, the trooper returned to his own vehicle. Mac waited until he had driven off, then pulled back onto the road herself. As she drew closer to the exit, she considered her options. All she had to do was get off at the exit, probably cross a bridge, then get back on the highway going north, back to DC. That would be for the best.

A few minutes later, in the parking lot of a gas station, Mac was still debating with herself about which way to go. Straight ahead then left to I-95 North and back to DC? Or right back onto I-95 South and continue on to I-295, then I-64, eventually ending up in Norfolk?

You’re in love with Harm. . . .if it makes you feel any better, you should know that Harm’s in love with you, too.

Maybe Chloe was right. Maybe she did need to clear the air with Harm once and for all. They’d made a start on the Admiral’s porch, but maybe they needed to finish it before she could move on – before any of them could. Mac took a deep breath and started her car. Her features expressing her determination, her decision firmly set in her mind, she pulled out of the gas station parking lot and back onto the highway – heading south towards Norfolk Naval Base.

BREEZY POINT OFFICER’S CLUB
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA

After a seemingly unending drive, during which a few stolen moments in the JAG courtyard and on the Admiral’s front porch had played over and over in his mind, Harm had arrived in Norfolk and promptly checked into the Navy Lodge. After sprawling out on his bed, staring up at ceiling for what seemed like forever, but in reality was only about forty-five minutes, Harm had gotten restless and decided to wander the base, looking for something to do.

First he’d ambled around the pier, watching the normal change-of-shift activity surrounding the USS Nimitz, in port while undergoing a two-year overhaul. He’d spent close to half his career on carriers and normally loved the bustling activity that surrounded them, even when they were tied up at the dock. There was always something going on. But this time, he barely noticed.

The story was the same as he drove by the airfield. He pulled off the road and parked, watching various planes and helos take off and land. There were even a few Tomcats, part of a ground unit based at Norfolk, taking off for maneuvers. Normally, such a sight would have filled him with an excitement that could barely be contained. But there was so much else weighing on his mind that he could have been at the controls of one of those F-14 streaking across the sky and there still would have been this empty space inside his soul that couldn’t be filled.

Eventually, he’d found himself seated at the bar at the officer’s club, a double bourbon sitting in front of him, untouched. He shook a handful of pretzels in his hand as he stared at the scarred counter, then dropped them back into the bowl in front of him. Maybe someday the wounds on his heart would scar over and then maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t hurt so much. Perhaps he’d done the right thing in agreeing to return in time for the wedding, then he could watch as she became Mrs. Mic Brumby and it would finally start sinking in that she was forever beyond his reach.

He thought he’d managed to bind up the wounds on his heart, the ones which had been ripped open at the airport in Sydney, but the last few weeks had proved the folly of that. On the one hand, he and Mac were closer than they’d been in two years. Yet they’d never been further apart, as she prepared to walk down the aisle with another man and he buried himself in a relationship which satisfied his body but which could never assuage the hunger in his soul.

He’d told himself that he could be satisfied with her friendship, that he could live with spending the days with her and watching her go home to another man at night. But as the days passed and her wedding drew closer, it became harder and harder to keep up the façade and pretend that all was well. It became damn near impossible when, for a few brief moments, he could hold her in his arms and stop pretending, but then had to face letting her go again.

“This bother you?”

“It’s your drink, not mine.”

Now how was that for irony? He was trying to use drink to forget an alcoholic. Even though he was someplace where he didn’t have to pretend, where he could drown his sorrows, her face haunted him, stopping him from taking the drink. He’d never felt completely comfortable drinking in front of her, even when she said that she didn’t mind. Now, she wasn’t even here, and it still bothered him to drink. He supposed if nothing else, he had learned from her that alcohol didn’t solve your problems. It might dull the pain, but your problems were still there in the morning, along with the hangover.

“I can’t face them, Harm. I can’t face you.”

Harm pushed the drink away with a sigh of disgust. Maybe he should have given in and let Renée accompany him, but even that would have been too hard. How could he continue to take her into his arms when it was another whose touch he needed and craved?

“Is this seat taken?”

Harm glanced to his side, finding a younger blonde woman standing next to him, gesturing to the empty bar stool beside him. She wore a leather flight jacket which identified her as a pilot and a Lieutenant. Well, they had flying in common and she was pretty enough. But he couldn’t make himself care.

“Actually, I’d prefer to be by myself,” he said, his voice short, barely attempting to be civil. In a huff, the woman turned on her heel and stormed off. Maybe she was expecting the gold wings to work just as well for the women as the men, he mused silently. His head jerked up when he heard a familiar voice beside him, but he couldn’t make himself turn his head, expecting to find there was no one there and it was all in his head.

“Sounds like the gold wings need a little polishing,” Mac said, sliding onto the stool which the pissed Lieutenant had just wanted to occupy. Harm shook his head, wondering if he’d managed to get drunk without even realizing it. Mac was back in Washington, busy playing the blushing bride.

“I would have thought that was obvious back in Sydney,” he snorted, picking up his drink and tilting the glass in his hand, watching the amber liquid swirl around. “After all, I sent you into his arms, didn’t I?”

“So we finally see the truth,” Mac said, “instead of this façade you’ve been showing the world, telling everyone that you’re happy for me, we finally see the bitter man behind the shield.”

“Not your problem, now, is it?” he countered angrily. Maybe he should take a drink. Then maybe he wouldn’t be hearing Mac’s voice in his head, taunting him. “After all, you’re the one who’s getting married in three days, right?”

“Harm, I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to lose each other?” Mac asked sadly, laying her hand on his. She wondered if this was how it was going to end, their entire relationship in shambles because of her marriage. He jerked his hand away, finally turning to look at her as he realized that the hand on his arm and the voice in his head were all too real.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Shouldn’t you be back in DC, fawning over the arrogant ass that you’re marrying on Saturday?”

Calm, Mac reminded herself. She’d wanted to clear the air with Harm. Well, what had she expected, more of the ‘I’m happy if you’re happy’ song and dance? At first, she thought to excuse his behavior because of what he’d had to drink, but she was close enough to smell his breath and see it in his eyes. Harm was stone cold sober.

Or maybe it would have just been easier if that’s what she had gotten, the ‘I’m happy for you’ line which he’d been spouting for well over a year or if she could excuse the truth coming to light because he was three sheets to the wind and couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he tried. Yeah, but Harm being drunk would mean he’d have to lose control and Heaven forbid that he should ever do that.

No, what she was seeing was truth exposed. This was a lonely, bitter man who – thinking he was away from everyone whom he had to pretend in front of – was tired of the façade he showed the world every day and who thought he’d finally found a place where he could get away from it all.

“I wanted to spend some time with my best friend,” she said. It wasn’t the entire truth, but she didn’t think he wanted to hear about how Chloe thought she was conflicted and needed to figure out her feelings for Harm. At any rate, she wasn’t sure she could explain how she’d gone out for a drive, hoping to clear her head, and had been halfway to Norfolk before she even realized where she was going.

“Well, in case you didn’t hear me a few minutes ago,” he said, “I’d rather be alone right now.”

“I don’t think so,” Mac countered firmly. She wasn’t going to let him push her away this time. Her best friend was hurting and it hurt her, too. “Again, what happened to us not losing each other?”

“Come on,” he said, laughing bitterly, “do you really think that will work?” He quickly turned his head, but not before she saw the pain and despair in his eyes.

“Oh, Harm,” she whispered, her voice ragged, recognizing her role in causing the pain of the person she cared about most in the world. “Please tell me what brought this on.”

“What brought this on?” he echoed. “That’s an easy one.” Before she even realized his intention – not that she would have stopped him if she had, she admitted to herself – he leaned towards her and captured her lips with his. In the same instant, they both gave themselves up to the kiss, wrapping their arms around each other, each trying to pull the other closer. For a moment, they both forgot they were in the middle of a bar, people all around, and one – or maybe both – of them groaned deep in their throats.

Harm was the first to pull away, leaving Mac with a dazed look on her face, her lips slightly parted. After a moment, she blinked, trying to focus on what he was now saying. “Tell me something,” he asked softly so that no one else might overhear. “If we weren’t in the middle of a bar now, if we hadn’t been standing in the JAG courtyard earlier today, if we hadn’t been standing on the Admiral’s front porch two weeks ago, do you think we’d be able to stop with just a simple kiss? And how long can this go on before the circumstances arise when it is just you and me, with nothing and no one around to tell us no? It can’t go any farther than this. It shouldn’t even be going this far. That’s what brought this on.”

Mac couldn’t make herself answer the question. Her head was telling her to lie, to remember that she was marrying Mic Brumby in a few days, to insist that it could and would have stopped there. But her heart couldn’t help pointing out that if Mic was the one she really wanted, then there would be nothing to discuss because she would be able to keep her hands off Harm. God help her, she did want more and he was right – if they hadn’t been standing in the middle of a public area earlier today, she would have gladly melted into his arms and forgotten everything and everyone but the pleasure she knew she’d find in his embrace.

He studied her for a long moment before sadly adding, “That’s what I thought.” Tossing some money on the counter next to his untouched drink, he slide off his stool and walked out of the bar. Only once he was around the corner and out of her sight did he stop and momentarily slump against the wall, letting the weight resting on his shoulders show in his expression. It was best this way. Mac had made her choice and he couldn’t interfere with that, no matter how much he wanted to. He had to make himself stay away. Maybe it would be easier after he watched her walk down the aisle and pledge herself to another man. Maybe then he could make himself forget that he wanted more and make himself remember that they could never be anything more than friends.

Back at the bar, Mac stared at the doorway Harm had just gone through, hesitating. She knew that he was telling the truth when he pointed out that sooner or later, they would find themselves in a situation where there would be nothing to stop them from acting on all those feelings that had been coming to the surface since the engagement party. She kept trying to tell herself that she was getting married and that she shouldn’t, couldn’t be attracted to another man.

She stared down at the engagement ring, watching it sparkle and gleam in the overhead lights. It had been given in love, she believed, but had it been received in love or taken to cover up a hurt? It wasn’t fair to Mic. He’d been nothing but patient with her, waiting in Australia for three months, then in Washington for another seven months while she hemmed and hawed on making a decision. Then he’d been equally accepting when wedding preparations had gotten dumped in his lap while she got caught up in one case or another. After all this time, after everything he’d put up with from her, she couldn’t just walk away from him.

But she couldn’t just walk away from Harm, either, she admitted. He held such a large part of her heart, a part which Mic Brumby could never touch. And if she wanted to discuss what she owed to whom, what about what she owed Harm? He’d been there for her so many times, in good times and bad, during times when she probably didn’t deserve his help and concern and it would have been easier for him to just turn around and walk away from her. But he never had. Even when Chris has shown up and she’d thought Harm wasn’t giving her the time of day, he’d eventually come through for her.

He even stood up for you against Mic, the voice inside her heart pointed out. It was no wonder Harm didn’t like the guy. Practically the first thing he’d done after arriving in town had been to go after one of the people closest to Harm.

Yeah, but Mic was quite charming in his apology, the voice in her head countered. And he does love you. But was it enough?

“You do love your husband, don’t you?”

Swearing softly at herself and the voices fighting it out inside her head, Mac practically jumped off her stool and ran for the door. Once outside the club, she faced a moment of indecision. Which way did he go? A quick glance at the parking lot revealed his SUV was still there, so whichever way he had gone, it had been on foot.

“Great going, Marine,” she muttered. “Next time you decide to follow someone, how about you don’t give them a head start and time to get away from you?” Glancing at the SUV, she thought that she might just wait there, maybe sit on the hood of the car until he returned. He did need to come pick up his car eventually so he could go back to his hotel. As she walked towards the SUV, she caught sight of a lone figure on the beach across the street, head hanging down, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Harm.” She ran across the street and towards the object of her heart’s desire.

As she approached, Harm could hear her breathing heavily as she ran through the sand, but he didn’t turn around. He’d figured that she would come after him eventually, but he wasn’t about to make this easy for her. He kept walking, ignoring her presence, even after she pulled up beside him and grabbed his arm to slow him down.

Finally, he stopped, trying to shake off her hand. “I thought I said….” he started before being angrily interrupted by her.

“Yeah, you said you wanted to be alone,” she finished for him. “I heard you, but I don’t believe you. You weren’t like this earlier at JAG. What changed between then and now?”

“What does it matter?” he replied. “It would be best if you just left. I promised that I would be there for the wedding and I will be, playing the happy friend….”

“Harm,” she pleaded, risking placing her hand back on his arm. When he didn’t resist, she pulled him in the direction of a nearby picnic table and tugged him to sit next to her on the bench. “Please stop pretending. Tell me what you’re really feeling.”

“I don’t think you want me to do that,” he retorted, turning his head away so she wouldn’t see the struggle in his eyes. He wanted so much to do as she asked. He wanted to tell her everything and beg her not to marry Mic. But it wasn’t his place to. As she’d pointed out on the Admiral’s porch, there were some things that he didn’t get to ask. He’d long since lost that right.

“Why don’t you let me decide what I want?” she demanded.

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last eighteen months?” he countered.

His words hit her like a ton of bricks. She looked back over the months since she’d taken Mic’s ring and realized that was exactly what he’d been doing. He’d stepped back because he thought she’d made her choice and didn’t want to interfere and risk losing their friendship. She’d made her choice because she hadn’t realized she’d had another option. She lowered her head as she shivered in the chilly night air, wrapping her arms around her in a vain effort to warm herself.

Even wrapped up in his pain, Harm noticed and he swiftly pulled of his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. “You’re freezing,” he said, pointing out the obvious. Her hands froze as they clutched the jacket, remembering another chilly night, another jacket draped over her shoulders….

“You wouldn’t think a beach would be so cold,” she mused, her voice so soft Harm almost couldn’t hear what she was saying. He began to wonder if it wasn’t so much the cold outside that was making her shiver, but the cold within.

“It still a little early in the year for it to really have warmed up yet,” he pointed out, trying to distract himself and her by talking about something inconsequential like the weather. “It only got up into the sixties today and it’s dropping down into the low fifties tonight. I doubt the water is even warm enough to swim in yet.” His voice trailed off when he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

He risked a glance at her. She was clutching the edges of his jacket, pulling them closed in front of her, trying to ward off the chill. She looked so lost, he realized. Quietly, he asked, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course….” Mac began, before realizing what she was saying. Time was that Harm wouldn’t have had to ask that question, he would have just asked whatever was on his mind. But you took care of that, didn’t you? You told him on the Admiral’s porch that there were questions that he didn’t get to ask. Sadly, she nodded consent. “Go ahead.”

Even with her agreement, he hesitated a moment before he continued, “Why did you come down here?”

“I thought you said that if I needed to talk….” she began, attempting a teasing tone, but trailing off when it failed miserably.

Fortunately, Harm recognized it as the delaying tactic that it was and returned with a shrug, “Yeah, well, I guess I was expecting you to call, not drive three and a half hours to Norfolk.” They both laughed a little, but the sound was bitter and full of regret and they quickly fell silent.

“Honestly?” she asked, glancing at him. He nodded. She looked back over the ocean as she blindly fiddled with the engagement ring on her left hand. “I don’t know. Chloe and I were talking and she said some things, said that I needed to think. After she left, I got into my car and just started driving. I didn’t have any particular place in mind. I just wanted to get away. Then, before I knew it, I was just outside of Richmond and telling some state trooper who must have thought I was driving drunk that I was on my way to Norfolk. When I was ready to get back on the highway, there was this voice inside my head telling me to head back north, back to DC. But I couldn’t make myself do it.”

“Maybe you should have,” he pointed out. “It would have been better….”

“Better?” she echoed. Involuntarily, Harm slid away from her on the bench. But she wasn’t yelling at him. No, this was worse. Her voice exuded all the warmth of steel. “How is it better to feel like I’m being torn into a million pieces? How is it better to be faced with a choice that I didn’t even know I was allowed to make because everyone around me kept making my choices for me?”

“Mac, I’m sorry….” he began, only to be cut off by her.

“Sorry about anything in particular?” she demanded. “Or is this just a general sorry, a catch-all to cover any and all situations?”

Harm turned away from her and stared out over the beach. From this angle, she could still see the torment in his expression, the firm, tight line of his lips as struggle against this with everything that was in him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just wish there was some way to make all of this easier.”

“Yeah,” she concurred, sliding off the bench to sit cross-legged on the sand. She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her folded hands. “Tell me something? How did you do it? How did you make it look so easy to just watch me walk away?”

“Who said it was easy?” he countered, sitting down beside her. “I thought we establish that a few weeks ago. But maybe I was the one who didn’t think he had a choice. You’re the one who, after I asked you to wait, showed up wearing another man’s ring just a few days later. You asked me how long you were supposed to wait? Well, was I supposed to be ready just because you were?”

Mac couldn’t reply, recognizing the truth of his words. Maybe she was trying to make something complicated too simple. And now look where she was – three days away from marrying one man while unable to stop thinking about another. Idly, she picked up a handful of sand and watched it fall back to the ground from between her spread fingers. “I had this dream,” she began, not even sure why she was mentioning it. But she was so scared of losing Harm and she was desperate enough to try anything to try and figure out how to hang onto their friendship. Yeah, but could she be satisfied with just that? “I was doing the presentation on the Somers mutiny and I kept having these weird dreams about it. I would see Mic as the captain, about to hang the three mutineers….”

“I can see that,” Harm said with a laugh, quieting at a stern glance from her. “Sorry. Please continue. You saw Mic about to hang the mutineers and….”

“I never could see the third man’s face,” she explained quietly. “I could see the first man – the Secretary’s son, the ring leader – and I could see the second man, but I never could see this third man and it didn’t seem important at first. It never occurred to me that it was important, because, after all, it was only a dream. But the last time I had the dream, I finally saw the third man’s face and it scared the hell out of me.”

Harm was silent, waiting for her to continue. But when she spoke again, she changed tactics slightly. “Do you really think we can do it?” she wondered. “Can we hang onto our friendship in light of everything that’s happened the last few weeks or are we fighting a losing battle?”

He looked away, scared to answer the question. Or maybe he was scared of the answer. She pressed on. “So much has happened in the last few weeks,” she continued. “Can we forget about that and go back to the way things were?”

The question hung in the air between them as he turned back to stare at her. Both wanted so much to close the distance between them, but they recognized the perilous slope they were clinging to. Harm tried to tear his eyes away first, but he couldn’t make himself. “What if….we don’t have a choice anymore?” he asked.

“Or maybe it’s our last chance to make the right one,” she whispered in reply, unconsciously leaning closer to him. Her tongue darted out to moisten dry lips and Harm found himself fascinated by the slightly movements her mouth made. He started to reach out a hand to her, but then let it drop as he realized he was doing.

Mac noticed what he did and nearly reached out grab his hand back, mesmerized by the memory of his touch. What she wouldn’t give to feel that heat again. Taking a deep breath, she asked a simple question, realizing the answer would make all the difference in the world. “What do you want?” she asked quietly.

She held his gaze, watching the internal struggle play out. He opened his mouth to speak, ready to insist that it was too late, but he couldn’t make the words come out. His earlier words to her echoed through his mind. ‘And how long can this go on before the circumstances arise when it is just you and me, with nothing and no one around to tell us no?’ He had to stop this before it went that far. Or maybe it had already gone too far, he realized as he tried again to utter the words that would slam this door shut between them, maybe forever. But he couldn’t do this.

The look he gave Mac as she picked up one of his hands and held it in hers tore at her heart. But she held her ground, waiting to hear his reply. This was far too important to rely on innuendos and half-spoken truths, as they had in the past. She needed to hear him say it, whether his words ended up being her salvation or her damnation.

“You,” he whispered as Mac released the breath she hadn’t even realized that she’d been holding. “I’m so tired of pretending that I don’t want you….so tired of pretending that I’m happy that you’re marrying Brumby.”

“Oh, Harm….” she breathed as he tugged on her hand, drawing her closer. Before she realized it, she was in the warm circle of his arms, staring up at the stars overhead he nuzzled against her neck, his lips barely brushing against rapidly heating skin. She barely noticed as his leather jacket fell from her shoulders or when he began to push her back onto the sand. But it echoed like a gunshot in her head when they heard the sound of tires crunching in gravel just yards away.

They pulled apart and stared at each other, dazed. “We can’t….” Harm began hesitantly, standing as he brushed the sand from his jeans.

Mac stared down at the ground for a moment, resisting the urge for tears. She should have known it wouldn’t last. Once again, she’d opened herself up to him and had ended up being damned. Holding back a sigh of frustration, she slowly picked up his jacket and folded it in half, carefully laying it over her arm. She started to stand, until she found herself at eye-level with a hand held out to her.

She looked up into Harm’s concerned gaze, holding her breath again, waiting for him to make the first move. He studied her for a moment then nodded slightly, seeming to understand the message in her eyes. Bending down, he gripped her hand in his and pulled her to her feet before taking the jacket from her and holding it up for her to slip into. “Harm?” she asked quietly as she slide her arms through the sleeves, overwhelmed by his nearness, but afraid to believe.

“Never be sorry,” he whispered as he lowered his head, repeating the words he’d told her earlier that day in the JAG courtyard. She shivered for reasons that had nothing to do with the chill in the air as he brushed his lips over her forehead and each of her cheeks. “I’m not.”

“I’m not sorry, either,” she replied, her words lost as his lips captured hers. She groaned deep in her throat as she pressed against him, promising herself that no matter what else happened, she would never be sorry for these few moments of paradise in his arms.

NAVY LODGE
NORFOLK, VIRGINIA

Mac’s knuckles were bone white as she gripped her car’s steering wheel while waiting for Harm to pull into the parking lot. Had he changed his mind during the drive to to the lodge? Was he delaying his arrival so that he could figure out how to let her down gently, could figure out how to tell her that this night wasn’t going to happen for them? Calm, she told herself. If he had been planning to put a stop to this, wouldn’t he have done so on the beach, when the approach of a car had interrupted their interlude? Why not let her down then, when she had been expecting and had been prepared for it?

Maybe they should have come in the same car from the Officer’s Club, instead of each of them driving their own vehicles back. But then that would have led to the problem of having to pick up the other vehicle in the morning. Mac knew why they had driven separately, but that didn’t mean that she had to like it. She feared that the longer they were apart, the more time Harm would have to come up with a reason to back out of this, the more time he would have to regain control.

As she clenched her left hand into a fist, she saw a glint out of the corner of her eye as her engagement ring caught the light from the overhead lights in the parking lot. She held up her hand and studied the ring, trying to figure out how she felt. Here she was, days away from marrying one man, and just a few steps away from falling into bed with another. Oddly, it didn’t bother her the way she thought it should. It should have bothered her. She should have remembered her ultimately disastrous relationship with John Farrow and her marriage to Chris and what she was about to do should have been weighing so heavily on her mind that she was ready to restart her engine and drive as fast as she could back to Washington and to confess and to beg Mic’s forgiveness for what she was thinking about doing. But the only think weighing heavily on her mind was how devastating it would be if she never had a chance with Harm.

With a sad sigh, she slowly pulled the ring from her finger and dropped it into her open purse sitting on the seat beside her. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. There was so much that she owed Mic and it wasn’t quite that easy to walk away from that. For now, she didn’t want to think about that. Even if only for a few hours, she wanted to step outside of her crazy, confused life and live out her fantasies.

From the other side of her car’s rolled up window, Harm watched as she removed the ring and tucked it away in her purse. He wasn’t optimistic enough to think this was permanent, not yet. Too much time had passed; there was too much water under that bridge. But maybe what was happening between them would prove to be strong enough to break whatever hold Brumby had held over her for the last fifteen months before it was too late, before he lost her forever. The little voice in his head told him that he should run, that he should save himself from the uncertainty of what this night would mean, of what this night might lead to, but he stood his ground. Even if this never happened again, even if he sat in a church Saturday morning and watched her marry another man, he wanted this. If nothing else, he would make himself live with the memories of what was sure to be one magical night for the rest of his life.

He hesitated another moment, then gently rapped on her window, pained more than he cared to admit by the surprised look in her eyes when she noticed his presence. Did she think that he had planned to back out of this? Grabbing her purse, she stepped out of the car and made a great show of slowly turning around and closing her car door, making sure it was locked and the alarm was set. “Mac?” he asked gently.

She finally turned to face him, forcing a weak smile. “I’m….well, I don’t know,” she said softly. She looked down at her hands and took a deep breath. When she looked back up at him, she seemed steadier. “I was worried.”

“You thought I had changed my mind,” he concluded, making it a statement and not a question. Sadly, she nodded, forcing her gaze to meet his. She couldn’t mask her surprise when he pulled her to him, pressing light kisses along her hairline. As he wrapped his arms around her, she felt something odd against her back. She pulled his right arm out from behind her back until she could see the brown paper bag he held in his hand. From the size and outline of the object inside, there was only one thing it could be. She gave him a questioning glance.

“I stopped on my way here,” he explained, his voice betraying a hint of his nervousness. It wasn’t an emotion he often let show and Mac found it oddly endearing. “I wasn’t sure….I didn’t want anything to, um….” She placed a finger over his lips to silence him.

“It’s okay,” she assured him, shivering as he took her hand in his and began pressing soft butterfly kisses over her palm. Her words came out haltingly as she began losing herself to the heat spreading throughout her body from his simple, tender touch. “I’m on the Pill, unless….well, you’d feel better….” She trailed off uncertainly, not sure how to proceed, what to say. She’d had lovers before, but this was different, for reasons she wasn’t sure she was ready to admit. She wanted nothing to come between them, needed to feel all of him. For one night, she wanted no barriers between them, whether physical or emotional.

Fortunately, he seemed to understand what she was saying and nodded slightly as he pulled her back against him, holding her tight, letting her feel the proof of how much he wanted her, wanted this. Mac sighed deeply as she unconsciously rocked against him. As he groaned against her neck, they both marveled inwardly at how close they were to finally fulfilling a long-held desire which haunted them both. “We need to go inside,” Harm murmured, knowing he couldn’t hold out much longer against nearly five years of buried desire and suspecting that she couldn’t either, if the way she was moving against him and the soft little noises she was making were any indication.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart and walked inside the lodge, Harm falling into step behind Mac, his hand resting lightly on her upper back, his fingers lazily playing with her hair. Mac leaned back slightly, enjoying the tender attention. There was something….she couldn’t exactly pinpoint it, but she would do anything to hold onto that feeling for the rest of her life. She found herself wishing more than ever that she could make this last beyond tonight.

Pressing his hand against her, Harm guided her to the door to his room while he fumbled through his jeans pockets, searching for his key card. He bit back a sigh of frustration as he patted down all his pockets. So close, only to be held up by a missing key card. He contemplated heading to the front desk for another card when he glanced at Mac and remembered. With a grin on his face, he tapped her on the shoulder.

Mac turned to face him, immediately lost in his smile. It had been a while since she’d really seen that boyishly handsome expression. She just couldn’t decide if it was because he hadn’t smiled for her like that in a long time or because she had stopped noticing. Neither explanation was very appealing and a brief shadow crossed over her features at the thought. Harm noticed and his expression grew more serious. Brushing his hand against her cheek, he asked gently, “Ma….Sarah?”

Her breath caught in her throat at the sound of her name coming from his lips. She never noticed before how much feeling he put into those two syllables, as if it was more than a name, as if he was conveying a hidden message meant for her ears alone. She smiled, a heartfelt one, and requested, “Smile for me again.”

Harm couldn’t help but respond to her smile and the grin returned to his face as he reached for the jacket she was wearing – his leather flight jacket. He slipped his hand inside the jacket, fishing through the inside pocket for the key card he’d deposited in there earlier, letting his hand linger a few moments longer than necessary, his hand brushing against her. Mac swayed slightly towards him, prolonging the contact, desperately wanting more. “Harm….” she murmured, gazing up at him, trying to convey every bit of aching need in her whispered tones.

Blindly sliding the key card into the lock with one hand, Harm wrapped the other around her shoulders, pulling her against him, his fingers tangling in her hair as his lips met her in a bruising kiss that left Mac weak-kneed and clinging to his shoulders for support. After a couple of tries with the card, he finally heard the click signaling the lock had disengaged and he pushed the door open, dragging her into the room, pressing her against the door to close it.

“Oh, God,” Mac whispered on a gasp of breath as their bodies pressed together, hands moving roughly over exposed flesh, pulling at restrictive clothing. She managed to yank Harm’s shirt free of his jeans, breaking off their kiss just long enough to drag it over his head and toss it away. She licked her lips as she pressed her palms flat against his chest and moved the slowly over his muscular torso, marveling at how wonderful it felt to finally touch him like this.

Harm’s hands were busy as well, swiftly moving down the front of her shirt, unfastening buttons and soon her shirt and jacket joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He took a step back and his gaze traveled slowly over her body, trying to memorize her every feature.

Mac leaned forward into his touch, praying that he would never stop touching her. It was everything she had imaged it would be and more. She’d known that he would be good with his hands, would know just how to touch a woman. But she still needed more and reached behind her to unfasten her bra, shrugging it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, her eyes locked on Harm’s, reveling in his admiring gaze.

“Is that a request?”

Slowly, almost reverently, Harm dipped his head, brushing warm lips over aching flesh. She arched towards him, encouraging his tender ministrations.

She draped her arms over his shoulders, clinging to him as if her knees might buckle. And she wasn’t entirely sure that they wouldn’t, the burning arousal was so intense. Her entire body was on fire and she willingly surrendered herself to the flames. Just as she felt herself falling, he pulled his mouth away and she found herself being lifted up, securely held in a pair a strong arms and she buried her head against his neck, inhaling his strong male scent as he carried her across the room and laid her on the bed.

He stood over her, his hands reaching out hesitantly for the waistband of her jeans. His eyes met hers and she could see so clearly the unspoken question there. She was touched, in a way she never had been before. It was another piece to the puzzle that was Harmon Rabb. For all his flyboy arrogance, he could be such a gentleman. “It’s okay,” she said softly, taking hold of one of his hands and placing it on the button at her waist.

Finally, he unfastened her jeans and slowly pulled them down her legs, taking her lace panties with them as she kicked her shoes off, then removed his own jeans and boxers before stretching out next to her on top of the bed while Mac studied him up and down with an admiring gaze. She often imagined what he looked like and she admitted to herself that imagination paled in comparison to reality. He was….perfect, she thought, for lack of a better word. Her eyes traveled back up to meet his and their gazes held, their expressions speaking volumes, words which neither was ready, even now, to utter aloud. With a nearly inaudible sigh, Harm gathered her into his arms, holding her tight against him as one hand lazily stroked up and down her back. A thousand nerve endings tingled in response and Mac gripped his arm, needing to hold onto something.

“Harm?” Mac asked, her tone slightly nervous. What if he was having second thoughts, even now? She wasn’t sure if she could take it, coming so close yet still so far away from what they both needed so desperately.

“I….” he began, his voice just as hesitant. Taking a chance, she lifted her head so that she could look into his eyes and what she saw both relieved and saddened her.

“I know,” she assured him, pressing her fingers over his lips, her breath catching as his lips skimmed over her fingertips. “Promise me, for tonight, that we’ll try not to think about that. For tonight, I want there to be just you and me.”

Harm nodded as he pulled her hand away and lowered his mouth to hers, pressing her onto her back beneath him, his hand sliding down her body. She pressed against his hand, wanting more than just his touch, and he pulled it away, understanding the unspoken message, settling between her legs.

He couldn’t take it anymore. In that last moment, so close to everything he’d only ever dreamed of, his control snapped and they came together with such force. He stilled, but she wrapped her legs high around his waist, holding him against her before he could pull away. Their eyes met and she felt tears forming at his obvious tenderness and concern. “It’s okay,” she promised softly. “I just never dreamed….”

“Neither did I,” he replied, struggling to control his own voice. He wondered how he was supposed to go on without ever experiencing this again. He’d thought that he could. He’d told himself that, if events continued on the course they were on, he’d have no choice. Silently, he prayed that this would just be a beginning for them and not another goodbye, perhaps the final one. He reached for one of her hands and clasped it in his, entwining their fingers.

“Harm, please,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his. “I need….” Her plea ended on a gasp of breath as they began moving together. She felt….complete, as if a missing piece to the puzzle that was her life had just clicked into place. She struggled to keep her eyes open, to focus on him as they moved together, their bodies matching rhythms perfectly, as if they’d been lovers forever. Her heart nearly broke at the expression in his eyes, at the intense sadness mixed with the passion and maybe even love. Hadn’t that been what he had told her on the Admiral’s porch in so many words, that he loved her? Now she could feel it, her heart aching and breaking with every soft caress. God help her, she no longer had even the tiniest doubt about Harm’s feelings for her and at just about any other point in time, the realization would have been a happy one. Now, it brought her even more pain and despair. She’d never thought that such an intense love could bring with it a heart-wrenching loneliness.

Harm noted a similar expression crossing her features, cursing himself for being the one to cause her such pain. If only he could have given her what she had wanted that night in Sydney. If he’d known what it would feel like, inside and out, to be completely wrapped up in Sarah Mackenzie, to be a willing prisoner to her heat, he’d have swept her into his arms the moment they’d stepped off the ferry and carried her away, the consequences be damned. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. He wanted to concentrate on the here and now, on a few stolen moments which might have to last both of them a lifetime.

Mac tightened her fingers around his as they moved together with such force mixed with such tenderness. It was such a contradiction, she realized, but then again, so was Harm. But she still needed more, wanted more. “Oh….please,” she gasped, fighting to get the words out. “Oh….more….”

He seemed to sense exactly what she needed, his free hand slipping between their bodies, sending shockwaves through her entire body. Her fingers tightened even more around his as she bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying out, tasting the bitter metallic sting of blood, as her body shook and trembled with an intensity she had rarely felt.

Moments later, Harm was following her, his own cries muffled as he buried his face against the comforter, but Mac was sure she could make out a harsh ‘Sarah’ among his mostly incoherent cries. She wrapped her arm around him, gently stroking his back as he collapsed against her, his body trembling. She inhaled deeply, trying to commit it all to memory - the heady, musky scent, of what they had done, of all that this night would mean to them for the rest of their lives.

“You’re trembling,” Mac whispered after a moment, pressing a soft kiss against the top of his head, one hand continuing to move slowly up and down his damp back, in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. It seemed like an odd thing to say, but she couldn’t think of anything else and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, about that and about everything else. When he didn’t acknowledge her, she squeezed her eyes shut against the sudden pain in her heart. She didn’t think that it would come this soon – the regret and the recriminations. She had hoped that they would have just a little more time before the cold water of reality splashed on their fantasies….

….Until he turned his head to face her and she saw the truth in his eyes, along with the tears threatening to fall. “I….,” he began, struggling to put it into words, fighting to find the phrases to make her understand what she hadn’t understood in Sydney. And this was far too important for her not to understand.

“Shhh,” she said suddenly, pressing a hand against his cheek, her thumb rubbing over his lips. “I know.” And she did know, could see in his eyes the truth of what he’d tried to tell her all those months ago. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then his soul was laid open before her, naked and bare. When he’d said that he was that way only with her, it had been one of the most honest statements that he’d ever made. He had finally let go, even if only for a few brief moments, of the lifeline that she had accused him of clinging to and had let her see a Harmon Rabb, Jr. whom she was sure no other woman had ever seen. Instinctively, she knew that he had never let himself be so open, so naked and vulnerable, not with anyone. He’d always kept these carefully constructed walls around his heart, even with those closest to him. But for her, for just a moment in time, he had let the shields down and exposed the very depths of his soul.

She recognized the truth because she had done the same. For a brief moment, they had both found the meaning and the gift of true intimacy, a merging not only of bodies, but of souls. She’d finally found everything that’d she’d ever been looking for from a man and a relationship, but unfortunately, it might end up being one of the saddest and loneliest moments of her life.

With Chris Ragle, she’d been too young and often too drunk to understand that there was more to making love than just the physical act of sex. While it had usually been pleasant enough, it had satisfied her body in much the same way that the fiery smoothness of the alcohol sliding down her throat had. There had been no emotional connection, only an empty place in her soul where love should have resided.

Her relationship with John Farrow, although better in many ways, had still been lacking something fundamental. She had been a lost young woman, looking for someone to guide her. She had been Eliza Dolittle to his Henry Higgins, someone to be molded and shaped into some womanly ideal. She had been like a college student with a crush on her older, more worldly professor. Although she could say that she’d had strong feelings for him, she had to admit that it had mostly been gratitude for all that he had shown her. But even that relationship, the first adult one she’d had and probably the closest she’d come to a stable romantic relationship up to that point, had been built on a lie.

Dalton Lowne – another unequal relationship, but one which sadly had threatened to bury her spirit. For him, she had been the ultimate accessory, something good-looking on his arm who could stroke his ego by adoringly following his lead both in public and in private. She should have known that relationship was doomed when she’d been unable to force herself to fit into his corporate world. She’d thought she’d been in love with him, but hindsight taught her that he had been a master at seduction, saying and doing all the right things to draw her into his web, where she would have remained trapped had the Marine in her not finally exerted herself and forced herself free. She remembered sitting in McMurphy’s with Bud and Harm, having booted Dalton from her life, and feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Yes, she had been saddened that it hadn’t worked out. She’d invested a lot in that relationship. But at the same time, she’d felt a tremendous sense of relief.

She still hadn’t quite figured out her relationship with Mic Brumby. At times, he seemed to exhibit some of the traits which had doomed her previous relationships. There were times when she was nothing more than an accessory on his arm, someone to show off who stroked his ego. At others, he expected her to be molded into his image of the ideal woman, subservient to her man and accepting his word as law. It would seem that he didn’t have much respect for who she was or what she had gone through to become that woman. At times, it had been painfully obvious.

In his favor, he seemed to truly love her and he had come along at a time when she’d most needed to know that she was worthy of love, when she thought that she’d been shot down by the man she’d really wanted. He’d bolstered her up when she thought she’d had little self-worth because the man she’d wanted didn’t seem to want her. Any woman would love to have a man as obviously devoted to her as he was.

She had come to the conclusion that true intimacy was little more than a fairy tale, something to be found only in romance novels where everyone overcame their problems to live ‘happily ever after’, that she had to be satisfied with less than everything she’d dreamed of, that her dreams had been folly….until tonight, when a few stolen moments had turned out to be so much more. She’d finally found a man who respected her and treated her as an equal.

Or rather, she finally acknowledged that he’d been right in front of her all along. Although there were times when he could be arrogant and seemingly put her down, he knew when he was wrong. Although rare, his apologies were treasured because they came from the heart and he never expected one in return for infarctions real or imagined, nor did he expect her to apologize while failing to recognize his own shortcomings. The perfect relationship for her might just be the one she could never, through life’s bitter circumstance, ever have.

It was rare that she found a man who was as concerned with what she was experiencing and expecting from their lovemaking as he was with his own pleasure. It had touched her, more than she had ever thought anything like that ever would, when he’d been worried that her gasp as they’d come together had been one of pain, that he’d inadvertently hurt her in some manner. His tenderness had only enhanced the pleasure she’d found in his arms. Then, when she had made a request of him, he’d shown her that he truly cared that she was getting what she wanted and was not just happy to accept what he was offering merely because he was offering it.

But it was now, at the end, when she recognized what intimacy truly was, when he’d held her hand as she’d fought against crying out and shook with her release, when he let her hold him as he was overcome by what they’d just experienced, when he’d let go of his lifeline and had let her see deep into his soul. For a few moments, they’d stepped outside of their tired, painful, lonely reality and created a magical fantasy that few people could ever hope to experience.

Harm started to divert his eyes, slightly uncomfortable with her acknowledgement of his emotional struggle, but then he forced himself to meet her gaze unflinchingly. “You do?” he asked softly, fearing that he would have to try to find the words which had so often before eluded him, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to find the right words to express the pain and joy fighting for a grip on his heart.

“I felt it too,” Mac answered simply. “This is what you meant, when you said you’re this way only with me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement which he acknowledged with a slight nod of his head. She closed her eyes, wishing she could have seen the truth before everything had spun so far out of their control. Now, no matter what happened, people would be hurt – maybe themselves, maybe others. But people would be hurt. There was no stopping that now.

“Hey,” he said softly, propping himself up on an elbow as he pushed her damp hair off her face. His touch was so soft, so tender and she sighed softly at the attention. She forced herself to open her eyes, meeting his gaze. “It’s not your fault.”

“As you pointed out more than once,” she reminded him, “I’m the one who ran to him very quickly after….”

“And I thought we had both acknowledged that there’s plenty of blame to go around there?” he pointed out. “It takes two people to make a relationship and two to screw one up.”

But unfortunately, in this case, only one person can fix it, she reminded herself. That was another thing about Harm. No matter how much he wanted her, he would never pressure her. Tonight had happened because they’d both wanted it. But she knew that if she told him that it was what she wanted, this is where it would also end. He wouldn’t blackmail her into staying with him over Mic. He wouldn’t threaten to take away his friendship if she didn’t chose him. She wouldn’t have to worry about him ever using this night to destroy her relationship with Mic out of spite or a need for vengeance. He would walk away because he cared more about her happiness than his own. It was just another thing that she had to consider, on top of about a million other things that had happened during the last five years that made it feel like the weight of the world was resting on her slim shoulders.

But she didn’t want to think about any of that right now. She wanted to hold onto the magic for as long as possible. She lifted their still joined hands to her lips, pressing light kisses against his fingers. There was so much she wanted, so many questions that she needed to find the answers to. Try not to think about that now, she admonished herself again. Everything will still be here in the morning, unfortunately. Just concentrate on the here and now.

Harm watched her, studied the emotions playing across her face in the pale moonlight streaming through a crack in the curtains. He would have given anything to make this easier for her. There was a part of him that even wished that this had never happened, only in that it was causing her pain. For himself, he would never be sorry. His only regret was that this had not happened sooner, before things had spun too far out of their control. “Sarah?” he asked.

She managed a smile at the concern she heard in his voice. She could imagine what he was thinking, probably many of the same things that were going through her own mind. But now wasn’t the time. They still had hours before dawn came and reality intruded again on their fantasies. “Do something for me,” she requested softly.

“Anything,” he vowed ferverently. Mac didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry at that.

“Hold me,” she said, her voice trembling just enough that he could hear it. “I just want you to hold me.”

“I can do that,” he replied, rolling onto his back, pulling her with him. She settled against him, her head resting on his chest. She closed her eyes, trying to let the now-steady thumping of his heart beneath her ear lull her into peaceful rest.

Harm lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, even after Mac had fallen asleep, her hand still clasped tightly in his, as if she would never let it go. He’d wanted very much to assure her that everything would work out, but he’d stopped himself from uttering the words, knowing they would be a lie. No matter which way this ultimately worked out, someone – more than one person most likely – would be hurt. Nothing could stop that now. It was too late. It was just too damn late.

Harm looked down at the pad of paper in front of him, reading over what he had written. There was so much that he wanted to say to Mac and he felt this was the only way – to put it all in a letter which she probably wouldn’t even see until after he was gone. It would be easier….if anything about this whole tormenting situation could ever be termed easy. The last thing he wanted to do was to pressure her. He didn’t want to risk pushing her even further away. He knew it would be hard, but if he wasn’t her choice, he wanted to do everything he could to try to hold onto their friendship. He just hoped that if it came to that, they would not find that they had moved too far forward to ever be able to go back to what they were.

As satisfied as he could be given the circumstances, he slowly and carefully tore the single sheet of paper from the pad and folded it. With a strong, steady stroke, he wrote her name on the sheet – not ‘Mac’ but ‘Sarah’. For some reason, it was harder now to think of her as ‘Mac’. In his mind, it had been Sarah, possibly the most beautiful, most desirable woman he’d ever known, who had opened herself up to him, trembling beneath his touch, her eyes blazing bright with passion as they’d moved together in a lover’s dance as old as time.

Grabbing her purse off the table in front of him, he opened it up and slipped the letter inside, silently praying that she wouldn’t have a reason to go into her purse until after they had parted in the morning. He wasn’t sure that he could face her as she read over the letter. He needed time to prepare himself for her reaction, time to accept the reality he would be forced to face if things did not go his way.

“The rules of engagement have changed.”

He stared up at the ceiling, sighing deeply as the memory replayed in his mind. That had been the moment, he realized, even more than their awkward conversation on the ferry, when everything had started spinning so far out of their control, when he’d stood in her apartment and told her that he had submitted his request to leave JAG. A single moment in time which had completely and irrevocably altered the direction of their lives. He wished he’d had the strength and the courage when they’d stood in his office a couple of weeks later, as she’d cried in his arms, to tell her how he felt about her and to ask her to be the one he would return to.

What had stopped him? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it had been fear. Not fear of her and their feelings – no, that had come later, he was sure of that. Perhaps it had been fear that if he let her in, if he let her get too close, that he would ultimately be taken away – just as his father and grandfather before him had been – leaving yet another woman alone to mourn her Navy man and to try to live with only memories.

So he’d made a choice, whether conscious or unconscious, to let her believe that flying was more important to him than….everything, even her. And he’d paid the price for that choice the last two years – had paid a higher price than any person should be expected to pay. Who could have known that such a tiny judgment call would extract such a heavy price from his soul?

His eyes widened as an idea came to him. He wouldn’t pressure her. Never. But he wasn’t going to let her slip away without making her fully aware of the price that would be paid. She had to know that if she did chose him, it wouldn’t be leaving behind a certain future with a home and family for an uncertain one with him. That’s what he’d tried to tell her in the letter, but could he do more, short of falling onto his knees in front of her and begging her to stay? He could and he would. If flying had been the thing that had torn them apart, maybe there was a way that it could be the thing that would heal their wounds and bring them back together.

Reaching behind him for his travel bag sitting on top of the dresser, he felt inside his bag until his fingers closed around a familiar object. Pulling it free, he studied it for a moment in the moonlight before pulling the letter from her purse. Unfolding the letter, he carefully laid the object in the middle and started to fold it again, then stopped. Picking up the pen again, he added a brief postscript to the letter. He read back over two sentences, feeling the weight that the words carried, the weight that was resting on his shoulders. Those two phrases could make all the difference – or they might not mean a damn thing. He wished he could know for sure.

Trying to be content that he’d done all he could, he folded the letter closed then picked up her purse again. As he placed the letter back inside, he caught the glimmer of her engagement ring and pulled it out, studying the diamond. That ring had been the bane of his existence for fifteen months. But now they were at a crossroads. In a few days, she would either agree to give them a chance and take the ring off forever or it would remain on her hand, joined by a band of gold signifying her vow to love, honor and cherish another man, as long as they both lived.

Damn it, Rabb, he berated himself. Do you know how many chances you’ve had to change the course of events? Hell, she even asked when you returned from Australia if there was something you needed to talk about and you turned and ran. Or what about when Mic returned at the Surface Warfare Ball? You could have said something then. Or when Harriet announced in front of the entire bullpen that Mac had finally moved the ring over? Hell, even Kate saw it, saw the pain that you tried so hard to hide. Or when Mac announced they’d finally set a date, then just two short months away? You could have told her what you were feeling, that you couldn’t get her off your mind.

No, he reminded himself, you just stood by and said nothing until the last minute, when she’d pressed you again, on the Admiral’s porch at her engagement party. You could have backed away then, just like you had in Sydney, but you couldn’t, could you? You’d never thought it would get that far, thought that you would have more time. The knowledge that you were on the verge of losing Mac forever weakened you, causing cracks to develop in the shields you’d carefully constructed around your heart and when she pushed, you couldn’t stop yourself from responding, from giving her a glimpse of the feelings you kept locked carefully away in your heart.

He clenched his hand into a tight fist, ignoring the pain as the diamond’s setting dug into his palm. That little bit of physical pain was the least of what he deserved for letting things go as far as they had without saying anything, for letting her breach the walls surrounding his heart. He just wished that he knew what to do to make everything better. He wished that he knew that he was doing the right thing by stepping back and giving her the room to make her decision. He wished that he could be sure that his heartfelt letter would be the key which would unlock the door imprisoning him, releasing him to a life of love with the woman who haunted his dreams.

His head jerked up at the sound of a soft moan coming from the bed and he glanced in that direction. Mac was shifting in her sleep and he hurriedly stuffed the ring back in her purse just in case she woke up. He didn’t want to explain everything running through his mind, wasn’t sure that he could, to his satisfaction or hers. Then of course, there was the idea of exerting pressure on her, which was anathema to him. He’d rather cut off one of his own limbs first than force her to do anything she wasn’t absolutely sure of. If he did, he was sure that he would be no better than Mic Brumby.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he leaned back in his chair and watched her sleep. Oddly, he thought, she looked so peaceful and relaxed. He’d tossed and turned once he’d fallen asleep and his restlessness had eventually driven him from the warmth of her arms, to the table where he’d tried to lay out all his thoughts and feelings in the letter he’d just stashed away. He couldn’t make himself stop thinking about the uncertain road ahead of him while he waited and hoped for Mac to think about what was happening and to possibly change her mind.

But she looked so untroubled that a part of him wanted to wake her and ask her how she did it, how did she manage to put their troubled reality aside, even if only for a few hours. He wanted to know how she managed to find peaceful refuge in sleep when all he’d been able to manage had been snatches of slumber, tormented by her touch, her taste, her scent, by her.

Still caught up in the cobwebs of sleep, Mac rolled over, the sheet tangling around her limbs, her hand automatically reaching out for the empty space beside her. “Harm?” she murmured sleepily, his absence pulling her towards wakefulness. She wasn’t sure why. Harm’s presence wasn’t one she was used to in her bed, but she felt an emptiness inside at his absence. Was this what it was going to be like if she married Mic, an aching hole in her heart because Harm wasn’t the one lying beside her? Could one night mean that much in the grand scheme of things?

It also registered in her sleep-clouded mind that she had called the correct name. Silently, she thanked God or whoever might be listening for that. She would have hated to see the look in his eyes if she’d inadvertently called Mic’s name in her sleep. As she thought about it, she realized that it hadn’t even occurred to her to think about whose name she was uttering. She’d just known. It had felt so natural, so right.

Mac lifted her head from the pillow, blinking in an effort to focus her eyes in the dark room. “Harm?” she asked again, finally catching sight of him in an armchair next to the circular table at the other end of the small room by the window, the curtains parted a few inches, casting an dim light over the table and over his features. “Are you okay?” She unconsciously held her breath, waiting for his answer.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replied, studying her from across the room, committing it all to memory. Would this be the last time he would see her like this, her eyelids heavy, her hair tousled from sleep? He thought she’d never look more beautiful and he wondered how he could ever look at her again – in the office, in court, in a car on the way to interview someone – and not immediately think of this moment.

Silently, Mac slipped out from under the covers and began searching the piles of clothes littering the floor for something to put on. She wasn’t sure why it was so important. He had already seen all that there was of her to see earlier, including the tattoo she’d once teased him with. As she’d drifted off to sleep, she’d felt his hand gently massaging that spot. A part of her was a little disappointed that he’d yet to make a comment about it or to ask her what it meant. Finally, she found a shirt – the one Harm had been wearing earlier – and pulled it on over her head, inhaling his scent as the soft cotton slid down her body.

She perched herself on the arm of his chair, afraid to get too close for now. He placed a hand on her knee, idly tracing small circles on the side of her knee with his thumb. “Can I ask you something?” she asked after a long moment of silence.

He nodded, his eyes focused on a distant point across the room. Was this how it was going to be, the two of them not even able to look at each other? Maybe it would be better that way, she mused silently. Could they ever look at each other again and not remember how it had felt? Could they ever look at each other again and not want more? Taking a deep breath, she summoned all the courage she possessed and asked, “Do you regret what happened? Are you sorry?”

Harm whipped his head around to look at her, his eyes wide with shock. How could she even think….? Well, maybe if you would tell her, the voice inside his head pointed out derisively. “No,” he replied, “not in the way you think.”

Mac waited patiently for him to explain that cryptic remark, opening her mouth to speak when it appeared that was all he was going to say. She closed it again when he began speaking, the turmoil in his mind and heart evident in his soft tones. “A few minutes ago,” he began, his fingers moving idly over her knee, “I checked my messages on my cell phone. There was one from Renée and….well, it doesn’t matter what she said. But I realized something that I’ve been avoiding thinking about since I first saw you in the O Club earlier. It doesn’t bother me. I’ve been seeing her for over a year, but I spent tonight making love to another woman and it doesn’t bother me, not like it should. I’d even told her that I didn’t want her to accompany me to Norfolk, when she’d suggested it. I told her that I needed a good night’s rest before I flew out to the Patrick Henry in the morning. But it was a lie. Even if I’d been alone tonight, rest would be elusive. I wouldn’t have been able to stop thinking….”

“I see,” she said softly, reasonably sure that she did understand. She knew that Harm prided himself on upholding the standards of a Naval officer, on being the epitome of ‘an officer and a gentleman’, to fall back on cliché. No matter how much he had wanted what had happened between them – no matter how much they both had wanted it – he saw it as a personal failing that he was relatively untroubled by what had happened. She could understand because the same thing had occurred to her, as she’d waited for him in the parking lot of the lodge. She was more bothered that she didn’t really feel guilty about what had happened, what she’d done, than she likely would have been by the guilt itself. “I can understand that, but at least you’re not just a couple of days away from walking down the aisle with someone else.”

“Maybe I should be asking you the same thing,” he said, his gaze steady on hers. She forced herself to meet his gaze unflinchingly, although she was uncomfortable with facing the answer to that question, for many of the same reasons – and more - that everything was weighing so heavily on his mind.

“How did we get to this point anyway?” she mused, her eyes widening as she remembered hearing those words before, when they’d been fighting on board the Watertown. She lowered her gaze, sorry she had asked the question. Would it really accomplish anything to rehash all of that here and now? She shook her head. “I’m sorry. We’ve been over all this before.”

“Yes, we have,” he agreed. But maybe the more they acknowledged the questions raised, the more they would be forced to think about the answers and the more hope that would exist for their uncertain future. “But it doesn’t make the questions go away, even if we already know the answers. And maybe now there are even more questions.”

Mac lifted her eyes to meet his. They both stared at each other, neither willing to be the first to cross the line, to give voice to all those new questions which their actions were raising. After a long moment which seemed to stretch into an eternity, they both started to speak at the same time, then broke off with light laughs, shaking their heads.

“Ladies first,” Harm said graciously, his eyes studying her face while, without conscious thought, his hand moved up her thigh, his fingers still lightly caressing her soft skin along the hem of the shirt she wore. Mac found herself reacting to his caress and she slid off the arm of the chair into his lap, his hand moving up even higher on her leg, her sensitive skin tingling beneath his light touch. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again as she lost her train of thought as his hand brushed against her. She pressed against his hand, but he pulled it away to skim over her thigh again.

She laughed, burrowing her face against his neck, her lips moving lightly over his ear. “I think you should put that hand back, Commander,” she whispered, pressing a hand against his chest, her fingernails scraping over his skin. She could feel how much he wanted her as she pressed closer, making sure she rubbed against him just enough to elicit a low growl of need from him.

“Actually,” he replied in a low, sexy drawl, “I have a better idea.” Before she had a chance to ask what he meant, he slide out from under her and stood, pulling her out of the chair to stand in front of him. He held her hands while his eyes traveled over her slender form, his eyes clouding over as it occurred to him that this might be the last time he got to look at her like this, her skin glowing, her eyes alight with passion. She noticed the look in his eyes and pulled one of her hands from his, pressing her palm against his cheek, sighing as he pressed a kiss against the heel of her hand.

“I know,” she whispered sadly. For one of the few times in her life, she cursed her perfect sense of timing, all too aware of the hours and minutes steadily ticking away until the inevitable moment when they would have to part. For once, she wished that she could forget the clock and everything else that was working against them. She’s always prided herself on her ability to know the exact time, no matter where she was. But tonight, time wasn’t her friend. Time was the enemy, ready to tear them apart. She stood up on tip toe and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face against his neck, willing the tears not to fall.

Harm wrapped his arms around her slender form, holding her tight as he rested his head against hers, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain threatening to overwhelm both of them. He would never have her sense of time, but he too was all too aware of how little time they had left. Every tick of the clock as the second hand swept around the face was like a countdown towards the moment when they would have no choice but to part.

For some odd reason which he couldn’t fathom, something his grandmother had once told him floated to the surface of his memories. ‘Harmon,’ she’d said, using his full name as she usually did when she wanted to have a serious discussion with him, ‘none of us knows how much time we have for anything. Life is full of uncertainty, so the best any of us can do is to make the most of what time we do have.’ It had been one of those typically wise statements that his grandmother was known for, but he’d paid it little attention at the time, preferring then to let self-pity consume him in the bleak, dark days after his accident. He had a feeling that this was hardly the type of situation she’d had in mind when she’d uttered those words, but that was what he would do. He would make the most of the precious hours and minutes he had left in the arms of the woman who held his heart. All he could do was pray that it would be enough.

Pulling back slightly, he opened his eyes and studied her, his fingers skimming lightly over face, trying to commit the feel and look of her to his memory. Her tortured expression softened under his caress and she opened her eyes, her gaze locking with his. They found themselves mesmerized, falling and falling through the windows that laid bare their souls to each other. They leaned closer, their lips brushing together, just the barest whisper of a touch, but one which hinted at a barely concealed passion, bubbling just beneath the surface, just aching to be released.

“Harm?” Mac asked softly, her eyes moving over his features. Like him, she was desperate to commit it all to memory. If fifty years passed from this moment to the last breath she would ever take, she wanted to be able to look back and to remember everything, to be able to see all of this, to see him in her mind’s eye as if he were standing right in front of her. If nothing else, she wanted to hold onto these moments, to be able to look back and to say that for just a brief moment in time, she’d had everything that she’d ever wanted.

“Shhh,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers as his hands traveled down her body and over her hips, pulling her up against him. Instinctively, Mac lifted her legs up and wrapped them around his waist, moaning softly, reveling in the soft moan coming from his lips. “No more talking. Just feel.”

“Yes,” she agreed softly before his mouth found hers. She wove her fingers through his hair as his mouth ravaged hers, his tongue delving deep to taste and to explore. Dimly, she became aware of him moving her across the room, the movement of their bodies against each other causing a delicious friction which threatened to overwhelm them both.

Harm realized that this was swiftly spiraling out of his control and he didn’t want that, not this time. He set Mac down on the edge of the bed, breaking their bodies’ contact, kneeling on the floor between her legs, his hands resting on the tops of her thighs. She looked at him questioningly and opened her mouth to speak, until he pressed a finger to her lips to silence her. “I just….” he began, glancing away as he found himself uncustomarily at a loss for words. Taking a deep breath, steeling his resolve, he turned back to her, determined not to waste the precious little time they had left together.

Slowly, almost tentatively, he raised his hands to her face, his fingers tracing her features. Mac’s eyes widened in amazement. This was yet another piece of the puzzle that was her best friend, now her lover. Her lover. She never thought she’d ever be able to use those two words in conjunction with Harmon Rabb. The thought brought a soft smile to her lips as his fingers moved over her full lips. She closed her lips around a single finger, her tongue swirling around the tip as her eyes fluttered closed.

Perhaps he was thinking the same thing, she thought as she sensed his reaction in the feel of his hot breath against her cheek, the sound as his breathing became slightly erratic and uncertain, as if he was trying to remind himself how to breathe. She sighed with disappointment when he withdrew his finger from her mouth, the sound turning to a murmur of approval as she felt his breath against her lips, as if his mouth was just barely hovering over hers.

Then she felt it – just the barest hint of a touch, of his lips brushing against hers. Then it was gone, replaced by the sensation of light kisses over the satin smoothness of her cheek. Slowly his mouth moved over her entire face until she was convinced that there wasn’t a single square inch which his mouth hadn’t touched. Then his lips were back on hers, his kiss harder, more insistent. He tugged on her full lower lips with his teeth, nibbling and tasting.

While his mouth was busy plundering hers, his hands weren’t idle, sliding languidly down her back and slipping under the hem of her shirt. His fingers unerringly found the tattoo she’d teased him with so long ago, rubbing around the spot in slow circles. Earlier, as they’d settled together in the afterglow of their hurried, heated lovemaking, he’d sought out the tattoo, fully intending to make some flip comment about it – until he’d managed in the darkness to make out the shape branded on her flesh. The teasing words he’d thought to utter had died unspoken on his lips. He couldn’t say if she’d found a particular meaning in the image when she’d had the tattoo done, but he’d found an eerie symbolism in the blood-red rose with thorny stem now.

When he’d first spied it, a couple of lines of an old song had drifted through his head. ‘Every rose has its thorns. Every night has its dawn.’ He couldn’t have found a more applicable symbol of them or their relationship than that image. If their feelings for each other were like a rosebud, sweet and full of promise, then the thorns on the stem were every hurtful word said and unsaid between them, their significant others and every event and happenstance which was conspiring to keep them apart. Tonight they were inhaling the fragrant scent of the flower, but when dawn came, they would find themselves caught in the prickly, thorny hands of fate. Quite appropriate for two people who’d met just outside a rose garden.

“I got that before I met you,” Mac whispered against his mouth, vaguely aware through the heady passion enveloping her of just where his hand was lingering. “It reminded me of something my uncle had said when I was drying out. I’d just never imagined….”

“I know,” he replied raggedly, not allowing her to complete the thought. His hands moved up her back as he resolved to put it out of his mind for now. Morning would come soon enough, and with it the pain of the prick of those thorns. But for now….his hands slid back down and he grasped the bottom of her shirt, pulling back from her as he lifted it up over her head and tossed it away.

Mac’s eyes fluttered open when she realized that he’d stopped touching her. His eyes met hers and she thought she’d detected the slight flush of color to his cheeks when he’d realized that he’d been caught staring. Or maybe she’d just imagined it. It was so easy to imagine anything she wanted in the darkened room.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered and this time, she was the one flushing pink. It was an odd think to blush about. She knew that she was good looking, not that she flaunted it. It was simply a fact of her existence. But this was Harm uttering those complimentary words. He’d called her desirable before, but she’d been too busy at the time forcing him to open himself up to her to think about her response to his statement. But now, it was all she could think about. It brought a heady sense of power, knowing that he found her attractive and desirable, but such power came with a price. She just prayed the price wouldn’t be too costly.

Harm rested his hands on her shoulders and slowly began exploring every plane and contour, moving down her arms, paying special attention to the sound of her breath catching in her throat when his fingers danced across her collarbone, the barely noticeable trembling as his fingers lingered on the insides of her elbows or the shiver which seemed to sweep her entire body as his thumbs traced lazy circles on the palms of her hands.

Mac wondered if this was what was meant by simmering passion, what was meant when people spoke of the slow burn of arousal. Had any man ever paid this much attention to her body before, practically worshiping her? She decided that it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the man kneeling before her, as if at an altar.

Then it wasn’t his hands, but his mouth moving over her, following the same path his hands had, first down one arm, then up the other. She exhaled a long, slow breath, imagining him repeating the same actions over other parts of her body, first his hands starting the fire, then his mouth continuing on to fan the flames until they burned blindingly bright.

As his hands returned to her body, fingers skimming over her flat stomach, Harm lifted his head so he could watch her eyes. He’d always thought her eyes so expressive, whether darkening in anger or alight with amusement. Now he wanted to memorize the barely concealed passion lurking in their dark depths, the way they sparkled in the pale light as his fingers brushed a particularly sensitive spot, the way her lids fluttered half-closed as she struggled to draw ragged gasps of air into her lungs as his hands skirted around her to dance across her upper chest.

Her mouth was fascinating to him as well, her lips slightly parted as she fought for breath, releasing a soft moan of pleasure as his fingers moved over her, varying his touch, light one moment, just a little more pressure the next, Harm always alert for any sign that it was too much.

He was really good with his hands, Mac decided. Too good. Surely there was a law somewhere against someone being that good. Of course, leave it to Harm to have hands which ought to be classified as lethal weapons. Now she was sure of one thing. If he were to ask her at this exact moment to run away with him, she’d do it without a second thought, Mic and all she owed him be damned. She was convinced that she’d be lucky to remember her own name when he was finished with her.

They were combustible together between the sheets, like throwing gasoline on a fire. But was it enough? Was there more than blindingly white hot passion between them, enough to sustain a relationship in the long term? Could they survive the everyday ups and downs, the roller coaster that a committed relationship could often be? Was this enough to overcome all the hurt and the lure of wind and the sky which still called to him? Could she ever be first in his life? Could anyone?

She lost her train of thought, gasping louder as his mouth again replaced his hands, his tongue dipping into her navel and circling around it. Who cared about tomorrow at a time like this? The fire burning in her, the desire only he could satisfy was all that mattered right now.

If what he could do with his hands could be termed lethal, there wasn’t a word strong enough to describe what he could do with his mouth. She’d known he’d be good there, too. How many times had she watched him in court, eloquently swaying judges and juries with his impassioned pleas, imagining what else he might be able to do with that mouth of his? Anyone who could use words with such finesse and flair surely knew how to use his mouth in other ways.

Bowing her head, she struggled to focus on the man in front of her, carrying her to such dizzying heights. He had such an intense look of concentration on his face as his mouth teased and taunted her flesh. Again, it wasn’t really a surprise to her. Of course Harmon Rabb would bring the same intensity to this as he did to everything else he did. It was a quality which made him one of the best in the air and in the courtroom. As for in other areas, she didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Maybe not ever, for that question might end up haunting her.

Harm just happened to glance up at that moment and noticed the haunted look in her eyes. What was she thinking? Was she wondering how they could go on without experiencing this ever again? Was she comparing him to others, to….?

You think too much, Rabb, he berated himself. Even if it would only ever be for a few stolen hours, right now Sarah Mackenzie was all his. That was all that mattered. Trying to distract her – and, if truth be told, himself – he let one hand move down her stomach as his mouth continued moving over her.

Oh, God, it was almost too much, Mac thought. She slid forward slightly, wanting more. But he was slow to comply, opting instead to press the palm of his hand against her as he used his mouth to torment and tease.

“Tease,” she murmured, leaning forward to rest her head against the top of his, her hands gripping his shoulders. He glanced up, breaking off his mouth’s contact with her, to a moan of disapproval from her. His familiar, cocky grin was in place, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, she noted. She bit her lower lip, drawing blood. Even in the heat of long-suppressed passion, he couldn’t let go enough to forget about the possible consequences. God help her, neither could she. No matter how many times she told herself that none of that other stuff mattered – not right here, not right now – she couldn’t make herself put it aside. A thousand nerve endings were all jumbled and humming, charged with electricity, she was achingly desperate for him and she still couldn’t make herself forget.

“Try not to think about it,” he whispered, trying to follow the same advice himself. He’d expected the cold light of reason to blanket them in the morning, when they couldn’t hide from the light of day, not in the dark, as they gave free reign to all the desire and desperate need.

“Just make love to me,” she pleaded softly. Just five simple words, but they made him all come undone for reasons he couldn’t begin to comprehend or explain. Perhaps it was simply the verbal acknowledgement of how she wanted him, needed him as much as she needed her next breath. Then his fingers were moving over her again until Mac was sure the only thing keeping her upright was her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders.

Pressing his other hand against her stomach, he pressed her back, forcing her to let go of his shoulders, until she was lying flat on her back, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. “Oh, yes,” Mac breathed, realizing his intent. Her entire body tensed in anticipation then she felt it. Breathe, she told herself. It’s easy. Just inhale, then exhale. But she couldn’t seem to remember how to do it.

“Oh,” she gasped as her fingers curled around the bedcovers, her hands tightening into fists as her body tightened and she tried to fight off the release just barely contained. She wanted this to last forever. It had to last forever.

Listening to her gasp and moan, Harm wondered if she was a screamer. If they’d had more privacy, if there’d been more than thin walls separating them from occupied rooms, would she scream his name as he pushed her over the edge? He’d nearly screamed hers earlier, before he remembered that the walls have ears. He prayed that someday he’d have the opportunity to test that theory. He prayed that someday he’d have the opportunity to do so many things with her, to her.

Too much, Mac thought, as her body shook as her world spun and shattered around her. She lost awareness of all but the blinding light surrounding her.

It could have been seconds or it might have been hours later when her eyes fluttered open to find Harm stretched out beside her on his side, propped up on an elbow as he looked down at her, a satisfied expression on his face. She vaguely remembered something she’d thought earlier, about how he’d taken care to ensure that she was receiving the most pleasure from their lovemaking. He was satisfied because he’d satisfied her. Or maybe he was that confident in his ability to drive her mad. Perhaps it was a little of both. She chuckled softly at the thought.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said, drawing a finger along her jaw, his gaze openly admiring. Her skin was flushed and glowing, her chest heaving with every uneven breath she drew. This was the moment he would always remember, he decided. So strong and vulnerable at the same time. Maybe a contradiction, but one which seemed to fit with who Sarah Mackenzie was.

She blinked, trying to focus her thoughts. A penny for her thoughts. Not here, not now. There were some things she wanted to keep to herself, some things she wasn’t ready to share with him, even after everything they’d shared this night. Maybe it was selfish, but there were some things which would simply have to remain locked away in her heart. They would have to if she were to survive this.

Her gaze traveling over him, the corners of her mouth turning upward, hinting at a smile. “I was just thinking….that one of us is a little overdressed,” she murmured. It wasn’t a lie. But if it wasn’t the entire truth, that was for her alone to know. “I want….” she trailed off, suddenly self-conscious, although she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the newness of all this, at least with this man. Yes, that had to be it.

“Tell me,” he requested, his eyes steady on hers. If he sensed that she wasn’t revealing everything, he kept that to himself. He understood that there were some things that, even now, they didn’t yet have the courage to say to each other.

Taking a deep breath, she replied, her voice quiet, “You….I want you.” She swore her heart stopped at the look in his eyes as she uttered those words, the intense need she saw. Before she could squash the thought, she wondered if he’d ever looked at another woman like that. She wouldn’t ask. Maybe she could imagine that it was a look for her alone, never to be bestowed upon another.

Swallowing hard, Harm nodded, rolling onto his back, pulling a couple of pillows under his head to prop himself up. He wanted to watch her, yet another memory to be filed away. So many memories, maybe all he would ever have of her.

Mac hooked her fingers under the waistband of his boxers and slowly drew them down his legs, as if unwrapping a present she wanted to savor. She’d only had a moment or two earlier to look at him, so she took the opportunity to study him as she positioned herself at his side, propped up on an elbow. Damn, no wonder the man was so cocky, she thought. If there was any such thing as the perfect male form, Harmon Rabb had been blessed with it. Everything was in perfect proportion. She glanced up, surprised by the look now residing on his face.

She thought he’d look smug, well aware of how good he looked. Instead, he looked shy, almost humble. The expression tore at her heart. Yet another contradiction. Damn, she thought. This would have been easier if he had been smug. Then maybe she could convince herself that this was just a romp, a roll in the hay that didn’t mean anything in the larger picture. Then maybe it would be easier to convince herself that she had no choice but to walk away from this, from him. Damn him. Damn her. Damn it all to hell.

Carefully masking her expression, she didn’t acknowledge the expression. Instead, she returned her focus pleasuring him, her eyes on his. She wanted – no, needed – to see his reaction, to see what she did to him. He bit down on his lip, his eyes glittering dark and smoky. Or maybe that was a trick of the darkness.

Harm reached out, finding one of her hands and curling his fingers around hers, tightening his grip as the tension coiled in him like a spring, ready to snap. “No….Sarah,” he managed to gasp between ragged breaths. “Not like this….” Summoning the strength from God knows where, he pulled away from her, sitting up as he pulled her into his lap.

Startled by the sudden change of direction, Mac didn’t even have the presence of mind to think as they came together. Her head fell forward against his shoulder as he whispered against her hair, unrealizing, “Next time, I’ll have to let you finish that.”

The statement didn’t even have time to register with Mac before they were moving together, again their bodies finding the perfect rhythm. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tugged on an ear lobe, delighting in his harsh moans.

“This isn’t going to last long,” he whispered against her shoulder, where his own mouth had been busy, pressing open mouthed kissed against damp skin.

“I know,” she replied in a ragged whisper, not just talking about the impending explosion threatening to engulf them both. That was the curse of this night. It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last.

“Sarah.” Through the clouds draping her mind, she dimly heard him say her name. She struggled to focus on the sound, then she heard it again, more insistent. Gasping for breath, she lifted her head and forced her gaze to meet his.

“Never be sorry,” he whispered, his tone pleading.

“No.” Whether agreement with his statement or not, even Mac wasn’t sure as she uttered the single word just before his mouth crashed down on hers, muffling her cries as she fell over the edge, followed closely by him. She tore her mouth from his and let her head fall against his shoulder as she struggled to regain control over her breathing, dizziness overwhelming her. She felt his head resting against her, his lips nuzzling the nape of her neck.

As reason slowly returned, his earlier words finally registered with her consciousness and she clamped her lips together to keep from crying out. ‘Next time, I’ll have to let you finish that.’ Had he realized what he’d been saying or had it been unconscious, a result of the fire engulfing him? Her eyes burned with unshed tears at the statement and the meaning behind it.

I will not cry. I will not cry. She repeated the four words in her mind, like a mantra. If she repeated them enough times, maybe she could make herself believe them. But nothing could stop the single tear that fell from her closed eyes to splash on his shoulder.

Harm felt the tear fall and opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again as he realized that he’d been about to say her name – her real name. Taking a couple of breaths to steady himself, he forced himself to begin again. “Mac?”

Mac. Not Sarah. If he’d called her Sarah right now, she didn’t think she’d be able to keep her emotions in check, to stop from giving the tears free reign. Steadier, she blinked back the remaining unshed tears and lifted her head. “Yes?”

He turned his head towards hers and captured her lips, slowly and tenderly moving his mouth over hers. It felt like….their kiss on the Admiral’s porch, which she’d tried to pass off as a goodbye kiss. It was nearly time. Dawn would soon be breaking and with it, their lives would move forward – toward what, neither knew. But if it wasn’t toward each other, it was time to start trying to cut that cord, to begin putting all that had happened this night behind them.

As they broke off the kiss, their eyes met and both could see so clearly for just a moment. This was goodbye, maybe for now, maybe forever. They both nodded slightly in silent acknowledgement. As they settled back down for the few precious snatches of sleep they could find before morning, a single thought went through both their minds. In a contradictory way, they were closer, yet farther apart than they’d ever been.

Continued in PART II

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